


A Reason to Stay

by Jollyrancher1114



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), BAMF Stiles, But He Gets Better, But he gets better too, Changing POV, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek tries his best, Don't post anywhere else, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, How is that not a tag, Loss of Trust, M/M, Major Character Injury, Misunderstandings, Not between Stiles and the Hales, OOC, Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Sheriff Stilinski is dead, Shy Derek Hale, Slow Burn, Stiles Stilinski Has a Crush on Derek Hale, Stiles has trust issues, Stiles is a hitman, The Hales are there to help, adding tags as I go, jennifer is good, kind of, like a lot, smitten derek hale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 49,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27078757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jollyrancher1114/pseuds/Jollyrancher1114
Summary: Peter was kidnapped during his patrol shift.Stiles was just looking for his target that he was hired to kill.Neither of them were expecting Stiles to walk in on an attempted murder. They didn't expect to become best friends, either.Or: Stiles is a hitman with extensive trust issues and the Hales just want to help. Includes piggy back rides, stubbornness, and Peter giving out relationship advice that somehow helps them in the end.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski & Original Character(s)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 190





	1. Chapter 1

Peter grunted, panting harshly as his legs were kicked out from behind him. His knees and chest ached as they came in contact with the jagged gravel and he hissed as a rough hand gripped his hair and yanked, forcing him to bare his neck to the woman who nearly killed his family. 

“Kate.” He pulled his best smirk together while he exuded his pheromones, hoping Talia would scent his distress. “I must say, my partners usually take me out before we discuss kinks-” Kate rammed the end of her pistol into the side of his cheek and pulled out a knife she had covered in wolfsbane, forcing it into the top of his thigh until only the handle was visible. 

She crouched in front of him with a smile, watching as blood pooled around the wound with a satisfied grin. “Blood kink.” Winking, she waved away the two men behind her and stood in front of him. Peter thought of his wife and their children, his sister and alpha, all of the family and friends he had in an attempt to calm himself. He wouldn’t be of any use if he got overwhelmed. 

There was no sign of Talia and he knew that he had probably gone too far out while he was patrolling. It didn’t help that they still didn't have an emissary who could tell the pack where he was. The wolfsbane was spreading faster and he nearly cursed when he noted his focus was buffering. There was no more time to wait this out if he had any chance of getting free. With an experimental tug on the wires binding his wrists, he winced to himself. There was no way he could break through them, especially with the currents of electricity transferring into them. He eyed the small generator in her hand with disdain. 

“What do you want, Kate?” He finally asked, knowing that’s what she had been waiting for. She tapped her pointer finger on her chin, smirking at the man on her right as she pretended to think about it. 

“I don’t know. Travis, what was it that I wanted?” 

“We don’t have time for these games if you want to get out of here in time.” He told her stoically. Rolling her eyes, she cocked her gun and aimed it with a steady hand and hard eyes. Peter gazed at her impassively, ready to drag this out while he came up with a plan, when a rapid heart beat and hurried steps began heading his way. He thought he felt the wires tighten and loosen, but he was more worried about the wolfsbane and impending death via a psychotic woman who tried to murder his entire family before. 

He straightened himself out to the best of his ability and sighed, dramatically forlorn as he nodded. “See, Kate, that would all work out if there wasn’t someone heading our way.” He watched with a pleasant smile as her eyes widened, having heard the branches and twigs snapping. 

“Shit,” She hissed. “Travis, take him to the back of the truck and make sure he’s secured. Dan and I will deal with them and then we’ll relocate.”

“What? That won’t work,” Dan argued. “We should just kill him now and tell whoever it was that we were doing something else.” 

“Like what, hunting birds?” Kate snapped. Peter clenched his jaw, breathing deeply as he watched them argue. The person was still a couple minutes away, more than enough time for one of them to crack and kill him. Closing his eyes, he brought forth his most prized memories and surrounded himself in the minimal warmth and comfort that they provided. 

“Just kill him, I’ll deal with whoever the hell is out there after.” Kate ordered with manic eyes. Peter didn’t move, mentally apologizing to his family and pack. With one last effort to escape, his eyes snapped open when his wrists broke through the wire cleanly. He wasted no time questioning the miracle, instead racing forward and impaling his claws into the two men. They didn't go as deep as he wanted them too, but it would be enough to keep them down. Kate cursed, jumping backwards and pulling out another gun. He grimaced once his leg faltered because of the wound and raised a hand to lean against the closest tree, ripping the knife from his thigh and snarling at her as she advanced towards him. 

“You have nowhere to go, Hale. You’re injured and standing on your last leg.” She glanced at the blood staining his joggers and laughed under her breath. “Literally. Just hand yourself over and we won’t go after the rest of your family. Your wife, kids. You care about them, don’t you?”

His wolf growled at the insult and he snapped his teeth in her direction. “I have more than legs I can fight with.” 

The smile disappeared and a furious glare took its place. “You all are monsters, why can’t you see that?” She asked angrily. “You and the other mutts you surround yourself with are nothing but manipulators. This town needs good leadership and protection, both of which mere show dogs can’t provide.”

“Wowza, that’s harsh.” A voice came from beside Peter. They both jerked, having not noticed when the stranger appeared or her two henchmen slip away. Peter growled a warning, holding back his panic when he realized he didn’t feel the person come up beside him at all. The person was wearing a red hoodie that covered his face and because of it he couldn’t see his features clearly. That along with the lack of scent put him on an edge higher than the one he was standing on with Kate. 

“Who are you?” Kate demanded, pointing her gun at him. The person shrugged. 

“Why would I tell you? There’s a lot of power behind a name, you know.” The person replied. Peter caught the teasing undertone and searched his mind for any encounters they could have had in the past. He came up with nothing.

“My name is Kate and I’m associated with the Argents. I take it you’re familiar with the name.” She gloated with a cocked hip. Peter listened to his surroundings, the relief he felt so prominent that he nearly staggered when he heard his pack coming. They would be there within a couple minutes at the speed they were running and he projected his scent further, hoping that it would assist them more.

The man snapped his fingers, humming in recognition. “Ah, that’s right. Well, Kate, I hate you and the hunters you work with. I know for a fact that your brother disowned you and kicked you out of the family when you manipulated and raped a high school boy. I know that you tried to burn his family down and I know that you fucked a hacker by the name of James Delong in exchange for him wiping the records on your file and placing the blame on Jennifer Blake. I know that she hunted you down, with information I handed to her, and killed your father in front of you. I also know that I not only have the records Delong wiped, but I also have a list of so many witnesses and evidence to put you in prison that they wouldn’t even hold court. Should I go on?”

Peter and Kate gaped at the man, who had picked up the knife Peter had tossed aside and was turning it over in his hands. Kate was extremely pale and her eyes were wild as she glanced between Peter and the stranger. Peter was held up on the fact that the person beside him was not only in contact with, but also _friends_ with the darach who had disappeared ages ago. 

The man gripped his wrist while she was in shock, distracting her with the knife he was mockingly pointing at her as he pushed something in Peter’s palm before he could rip his wrist from the grasp. He looked down, surprised and confused when he saw wolfsbane, already prepped for him to place on his wound. 

“You’re lying. You know him and you’re teaming up to distract me. Well, it’s not going to work and I don’t know how he told you everything so fast, but it doesn’t matter.” Peter discreetly forced the wolfsbane in the wound, biting his tongue and focusing on the sound of his pack racing towards them to block out the pain.

“Pretty sure it does.” The man retorted with an amused snort. “I’ll give you a choice, though. You have two options-”

“The hell I do! I’m-”

“Either you turn yourself in, escorted by _moi_ , of course, or you die.” He continued, ignoring her interruption. At her incredulous look, he sighed in annoyance and reached into his hoodie, effectively putting both wolf and hunter on guard. He sent Peter a look, and Peter gasped at how young the man seemed. He wasn’t the man his aloof yet trained posture held him as, but in his early twenties with an incredulous look aimed at him. 

“I literally _just_ saved you, why would I hurt you now?” He asked with a huff. Turning back to Kate, he pulled out three thick rolls of paper, all with visible highlights and some red yarn poking out. “And you, does this look like I’m lying? Either way, it’s your choice. You’ll probably end up dead in the end, anyway.” He shrugged, putting the rolls back inside his hoodie and stuffing his hands in his pocket.

Howls broke out in the distance and he answered with his own, Kate shaking in silent fury and glaring at the both of them. “I’m going to die anyway, you said. I might as well go out with a bang.” She aimed a gun at Peter, directly at his heart, and just as she steadied her hand and pulled the trigger, the man threw the knife into her hand that was holding it. Peter didn’t have time to react before the man was in front of him, taking the bullet just below his knee and to the side. 

Kate cursed, holding her hand and staring at the man hatefully. He was already on the ground, his leg stretched out in front of him and one of his hands behind him holding up his weight. Peter opened his mouth and was about to ask if he was alright when the man pulled out three slim items from his pocket and threw them effortlessly at Kate, one hitting her in the throat, one in the thigh, and another over her heart. 

Peter stared wordlessly at her, confused and joyful and tired all at once. 

“This is the part where you kill her and get us out, y’know. Just a suggestion.” Peter turned towards the man, taking in his teasing smile and the pain well hidden in the whisky glow of his wide eyes. 

“I think you already took care of that part,” he trailed off in hopes of catching a name. The man’s eyebrows drew together and his hands snapped to both of his thighs, clutching his right leg subtly. Peter would think that he was just stretching with the way he smoothly pulled it off, but he was paying explicit attention to the person who saved his life. He didn’t like owing people, after all. It was only then that he realized he wasn’t healing. 

“You aren’t a wolf.” He murmured, disbelief weaved into his tone. The man snorted, raising his bloody hand and going as far as to poke at the bullet wound. 

“No, I don’t believe I am.” He snarked back, smirk softening to a crooked grin in wry amusement. Looking around with narrowed eyes, he pointed his finger at Peter. “I thought you said your pack was almost here.”

“We can meet up with them,” Peter shrugged. He dusted off his clothes, straightening his shirt and grimacing at the blood there. 

“We?” The man’s eyes widened as he vehemently shook his head. “Nope, sorry dude. That can’t happen. I’m only here because someone important to me asked for help.” 

“And how are you going to get there when you can’t even stand on your leg?” Peter challenged with a concerned frown. He felt a particular… protectiveness over the stranger and while he was in no way attracted to him, his wolf quickly denied the thought of leaving him. 

The man scoffed, waving his hand with a grin. “This is nothing. I’ve had ten, no, a hundred times worse than this. Trust me, I can hold my own.”

“I refuse.” He chuckled at the expression on the man’s face and leaned against a tree. “I don’t like being in debt. You saved my life so that automatically means I owe you one.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, who said anything about you being indebted to me? If anything, you helped me find blondy over there faster than I would’ve on my own.”

“I would’ve been dead if you hadn’t shown up when you did, though.” Peter regarded the man with a frown. “Say, what were you even doing here this late?”

“Oh!” Peter scowled as he saw the man trying to stand up and gently pushed him down by his shoulder. 

“Didn’t I tell you that you can’t walk? You need medical attention. My wife can help you, she’s a surgeon.”

“And _I_ told _you_ that I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need any help, I’ll just patch myself up once I get back.”

Peter looked skywards and prayed for patience. “What do you need? I’ll get it for you.”

The man groaned loudly. “You can’t touch them, you’ll be flat on your ass in less than a second.”

“And why’s that?” He asked curiously. 

“Because they’re _mine_.” They both heard the sounds of feet pounding the grass and with a heavy sigh the man gestured towards Kate. “Just bring blondy over here for me, ‘kay? I’d rather not have anything stolen, thanks”

Peter raised an eyebrow but did as he asked, grabbing her limp leg and dragging her until she was in front of him.

He murmured a thanks and Peter watched quietly as he gathered the things he’d thrown at her from before. He was mildly surprised to see that they were minuscule ‘S’ shaped blades, black with dangerously sharp edges. With the way they had stuck into her and didn’t waver in their path, he was sure the man had added some enhancements to them, especially with the way he brought out a red cloth and a bottle of clear liquid, cleaning them swiftly and elegantly. It was easy to see that he cared about them. After he was done, he took off the laces of his shoes off and made a knot to tie them together. He used the same liquid that he cleaned his blades with to squirt over the wound, gritting his teeth as he tied the cloth to keep pressure on it. It would bleed through in less than five minutes, but it was enough for now. Growls broke out and Peter paid close attention to the man, noting how he didn’t tense and continued on cleaning his blades. It was odd and yet he couldn’t help but think the behavior suited him. Before he could blink, the man was surrounded by his pack and his sister was racing towards him.

“Peter!” Talia rushed to his side and put her hands on his cheeks, turning his head this way and that to examine his face before she moved her hands to his shoulders and then his sides to check there, too. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He soothed her and bared his neck, knowing that they both needed the comfort that scenting would bring them. “And you don’t need to crowd him like that, he’s the one who saved me.”

The man sighed and put his blades back into his hoodie. “I thought we went over this already. I didn’t save you and you’re not indebted to me, so get that out of your head. And you,” He pointed Devin with a click of his tongue. “She’s really dead, you don’t need to keep nudging her body like that.”

Peter smirked at his son’s expression and headed towards the man, clasping his hand on his shoulder and giving him a look when he tried to shrug him off before addressing his family. “You really don’t need to worry about him. If anything we should be helping him.” He glanced at his leg, noting how the bleeding wasn’t slowing down. 

“Don’t even think about it,” the man told him. “I already said no. I have shit to do and deadlines to meet.”

Talia coughed and fell in line beside Peter, regarding the person on the ground with a kind smile. “Hello there. My name’s Talia, the alpha of this lively bunch, as you’ve already seen. You have my gratitude for saving my brother. I’d like to hear the full story of course, but I think we should get you checked out first.”

He flushed at the attention and scratched the side of his neck. “It’s really nothing, I can take care of it myself.”

“And how are you planning on doing that?” She challenged. “Humans die from bleeding out every day and I’d rather not let you go that same route. I’m sure you understand, right?”

The man sighed and shuffled to his feet, grimacing when he put too much weight on his leg. Peter was there in an instant, guiding the man’s arms over his shoulders while he gripped his thighs, mindful of his injury as he adjusted him on his back. “I don’t consent to this, I’ll have you know.” He grumbled.

“Either you come with us and let us help you or I’ll end up following you to make sure you’re safe. I doubt you’d want me to know that much about you, correct?” The glare he got in return was answer enough. “Well then.” Peter gestured for his sister to lead the way, smiling at Devin when he slowed his pace to walk with him.

“You really are a crappy dad, you know that? Why can’t you just tell us where you’re going instead of us having to hunt for you? You make everything so difficult and-”

Peter ruffled his hair with a small smile. “I’m okay, don’t worry.”

“As if I would!” The teen marched past him and the man snorted by his ear. 

“Family troubles?”

“More like a son who’s milking his puberty stage.”

Stiles snickered at the teen’s growl. He shifted on the wolf’s back, tightening his arms as he felt out his injury. The bullet had grazed him a couple centimetres from the bottom of his knee, so the bone was fine. It must’ve just penetrated his muscle and took a couple layers of skin with it, which was better than he’d expected. Still… he sighed and rubbed his forehead as he thought of ways to talk himself out of the hole he’d dug. Really, he should know better by now. This is what he gets for trying to help someone during one of his tasks. He could already picture how his soul would leave his body once she found out he’d gotten hurt.

“Are you alright?” He turned to face the alpha and plastered on a smile.

“I’m fine. I just have a leg that's missing some skin and an impending lecture after I get beaten to an inch within my life.”

She frowned at that and scrutinized him thoroughly, taking in the pale complexion of his face and the light tremors going through him. It was incredible that he was able to hold on while he was in that state. His scent was completely closed off which would normally make her more cautious, but seeing the shape the human was in was a slight consolation to her. 

“What kind of people do you hang out with that would kick a man who’s already down?” Peter grumbled. The man shrugged in lieu of a response and Talia noted the way her brother’s shoulders stiffened. 

“What’s your name?”

“Michael.” 

She raised her eyebrow at him and knew for a fact that he knew she could tell he was lying. It was written all over his face and the half hearted shrug he gave her. Still, she knew it wasn’t the time to push him right now. “Right. Well then, _Michael_ , once we get home I’ll have Valerie treat your leg.”

"I already told you that isn't happening. I'll just get some of the supplies you guys have and do it myself."

"Do you know the proper precautions to take? The depths of the muscle layers and where the veins and arteries are located?" She softened at the frustrated look on his face and patted his shoulder. "I'm sure you're more than capable of taking care of yourself but right now you're on the brink of passing out and I'd rather not see you bleeding out anytime soon."

"You're going to force me to get it looked at no matter what I say, right?"

"Absolutely. What's the point of resisting treatment?"

He grunted something but before she could ask he turned back to her with a stern face. "Fine. But nobody touches me or takes my belongings. And I leave as soon as I think I'm able to."

"I won't have you limping out of my house. The other two I can do, though."

He gave a stiff nod in response and Talia offered another smile before chastising Peter for going out further without giving notice. Both of the siblings noticed how Michael kept quiet the rest of the way, but they knew better than to drag him into a conversation. Especially in the situation he was thrown into.

"Holy shit, you live here?"

Peter blinked at the incredulous tone. "Yeah. We've been in this house for more than thirty years now."

"What do you mean house? This is a fucking mansion!" Talia raised an eyebrow at his language and chuckled when he mumbled a half hearted apology, his eyes still fixated on their house. It wasn't that big, in her opinion. With over fifteen people who pop in and decide to stay whenever they want, it was a necessity that they had enough room for them along with rooms for their guests. 

"Peter!" His head whipped over to his wife and his shoulders sagged at the sight of her, healthy and unharmed. "Jesus, Peter! Do you know how worried I was? What's wrong with you? And who's that? Why's he on your back?"

"Valerie, sweetheart, I'm okay. I was thrown around a bit but this man saved my life."

"You know, I'm getting really sick of hearing you say that. I already told you, I was just doing business and you happened to be there."

Valerie grasped Michael's hand in hers and smiled at him warmly. "Thank you so much, Peter's one of the most idiotic people I've met but I still love him. Now, what's wrong with your leg?"

"It's not a big deal. I just need some thread and a needle."

"He got shot. I don't know how bad it is since he didn't let me see it, but it's bleeding a lot and seems pretty deep."

"Why are we still standing out here! Peter, bring him to my office and make sure he doesn't stand, I'm going to go get my stuff!"

Talia laughed at the look on Michael's face and followed them to the office. "She looks calm at the first glance, but she's even more wild than my brother here."

"Great." Peter set him down onto one of the chairs and sat on the window ledge, stretching out his legs and cracking his neck.

"Man, what a day."

"You're telling me. I would've been halfway into Arizona by now."

"Huh? You live there?"

"No."

"Then why would-"

"Alright," Valerie slammed the door open and kicked it shut behind her as she rushed towards him. "I have everything I need, including the anesthesia."

"Absolutely not." Stiles pulled his leg back when she reached for it, glaring at her when she frowned. "I'm doing everything myself. I don't care if you watch but you aren't touching me."

"I'm a surgeon so I know what I'm doing and-"

"I know my body, alright? Either you let me do it or I'm leaving right now, even if I have to fight my way out."

Valerie stared at him and after a couple minutes of her not handing the bag over, he stood up and took a step towards the door. 

"Okay, okay! Geeze, you sure are stubborn, aren't you. Here, just sit down now."

Stiles grabbed the bag with a nod and situated himself back in the chair, propping his injured leg up on the desk in front of him. He grabbed the curved needle and thread, leaving the tweezers behind, and quickly tied a knot.

"Are you sure you don't-"

"I'm fine." Reaching inside his hoodie, he pulled out the container of vodka he had used earlier. It still had more than half, so he took a couple drinks from and dipped the tip of the needle into it before shoving it back into his pocket. His pants were already torn from the bullet and he didn't have to try hard at all to open them up more. He glanced at the trio and snorted at the looks on their faces. 

Without wasting any more time, he started to sew his skin back together, snickering when he recalled doing the same thing not too long ago. Macie, His closest friend and mentor, had been with him at that time too. They'd spent more than two weeks camping outside of one of Kate's side organizations getting intel on where she would be. After they'd gotten all the information they needed, they'd stormed the place and came out victorious with only a couple minor injuries, one of which was on the side of his forearm. She had scolded him the entire time she stitched him up so he could only imagine what she would do when she found out he'd been shot. 

"You're surprisingly good at that." Valerie praised, watching as he threaded the last part of the graze together.

"Like I said, I've done this before." Stiles tied the last knot and tossed the equipment into the garbage by the desk, swinging his leg down as he yawned.

"You should rest. We have a guest bedroom that you can use, it's just down the hall." 

He sighed heavily and nodded. There was no way he'd get out of there tonight, especially when the alcohol hit him. As embarrassing as it was, he knew he was a lightweight and once the adrenaline left his system he'd be out for the count. He zoned out as they showed him where the guest room was and as soon as he shut the door, he pulled out the small package of mountain ash and circled the room with it. Afterwards, he checked for any cameras or microphones, satisfied when nothing looked out of the ordinary.

"Shit." He ran a hand through his hair and groaned as he sat on the bed, letting his body sink into it. Pulling out his phone, he looked at his calendar and resisted the urge to throw it when he saw who he was supposed to meet up with in the next two days. Angelo was one of his most faithful and economically powerful clients and they had an understanding between them that suited them both perfectly. There was no way he could miss the meeting with him, especially with the topic they were going to discuss. He didn't even have his suit with him for fucks sake! Stiles cracked his knuckles and added another IOU to his tab as he typed in the number.

"Macie? I need a favor. And I need you to not yell, either."

* 

Peter stared at Michael as he ate his lunch, watching as he scowled and began typing again on his phone. He'd been texting the same person since he walked out of the guest room, offering nothing more than a nod. More than half the day had passed and there he was, in the same position doing the same thing. He couldn't help but marvel at the man's diligence, he wouldn't have made it past the five hour mark.

"Derek and Laura are on their way back, they'll probably get here tomorrow afternoon. They said they're on break right now so they'll be here for a couple weeks." Talia reminded. "You might get along with them, Michael. You look to be around the same age."

"Maybe." She frowned when he didn't lift his head and shot a questioning look towards him. Peter shrugged and decided to risk it.

"That person must be important if you're willing to talk to them this long."

"I'm not talking to anyone right now. I'm working."

"Oh? Isn't it hard to do it all on your phone?"

"No."

The silence fell again and Peter nearly banged his head against the table at how infuriating this whole situation was. The man had closed himself off completely and no matter how hard they tried to include him, he never answered in more than two sentences. 

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I found that bestiary you were looking for the other day. I put it in your office."

Peter brightened and pushed his food aside, giving her a kiss on the head as he passed. 

"Bestiary?" 

He faltered at Michael's sudden interest and nodded. "Yes. It's been in this family for many generations."

"Mind if I look at it with you?"

"Not at all, but I didn't think you'd be interested in that kind of thing."

"I'm interested in a lot of things."

"So it seems," he mumbled. "Anyway, my office is this way. Are you able to walk okay?"

"Yeah." Now that he had an opening, there was no way Peter was going to let those one worded answers slip past anymore.

"What interest do you have in bestiaries?"

"I like to compare and contrast. It's amusing to me how some people are completely wrong about some species and yet others follow the directions like idiots."

"And how do you know what's fake or not?"

"I travel a lot. Myths, legends, folktales and stories, I've heard them from all kinds of people."

"Oh? Care to share?" Peter held the door open for him and smirked at the sharp inhale. His office was more like a library. All four walls were full of books and journals and his desk sat directly in front of the bay window, which was his favorite spot to read. 

"Holy shit, dude. This is awesome. How long did it take for you to get all these?" Michael ran his hand along the books and Peter couldn't help but feel prideful. This was his beloved collection, after all.

"Most of these are from my parents, but the rest I found online or through bookstores."

"Lucky. I have one too, but it's all on my laptop so I can't really appreciate it, y'know?"

"I understand you fully. Do you see any titles that you're familiar with? You can read anything as long as you don't damage them, which I doubt you will."

Michael huffed and grabbed several books right away, situating himself on the chair as he flipped the first one open. "As if I would."

Peter turned around to hide his smile and grabbed the bestiary Talia left for him. It had been years since he'd had someone to read with, Valerie too busy with her job and Devin more interested in girls and sports. It felt nice to have company again, especially someone as interesting as Michael was. 

They spent the rest of the day together, Michael pointing out what was fake and Peter adding his own facts here and there. Eventually, they ended up reading the same journal and discussed what they knew about it, sorting out facts from fiction.

"That's ridiculous! I've dealt with vampires before and they don't go straight for the neck, they have their own rules that they follow."

"Really? What are they?" Peter asked enthusiastically. He'd learned a lot from Michael, his perspective had broadened so much because of what the other man had experienced and he couldn't be happier. He felt as if he was in his teens again and had just discovered how to control his shift during the full moon.

"Hm? There's different… factions, I guess. The ones that I met were really strict about who to feed on, though. If they were interested in drinking directly from someone, they had to introduce them to the leader and then the leader would decide if they were trustworthy or not. It's a big deal for them and they can only drink from specific places that are easy to hide."

"And those places are?"

"Mostly the thighs or arms, it depends on the person and what they usually wear. Oh! And once they're done, they make you drink a bunch of drinks with vitamin C and foods that have iron in them to avoid anemia."

"You know a lot about this."

"Yeah." Michael offered no further response and flipped the page, pointing at the picture of a wendigo. "What do you know about these?"

Peter could tell that he was more tense than before, but decided to throw him a bone and started to tell him all the facts and theories he could remember. He studied him as he read and smiled as the man snorted at the paragraph he was reading. It was odd, that he’d formed a connection with him so suddenly, but the way Michael carried himself reminded him of himself back when he was still trying to figure out who he was. There’s no way that the man would talk about himself the way he wanted him to and he knew better than to force him. Still, he had to wonder what kind of life he was living if he was used to patching himself up as well as he said he could. Peter could only hope that he knew what he was doing. 

*

Talia kept a close eye on Michael as they ate that night. He was putting more weight on his uninjured leg and made a face whenever his clothing rubbed against the stitches, but other than that he seemed to be fine. It had been taken nearly half an hour to convince him to eat and it was only after he watched them all take their first bite before he began. 

“Say, you never told us what you were doing out there.” Devin brought up. “I mean, isn’t it kind of suspicious that you came just in time to save my dad? How do we know you weren’t the one that sent her to him?”

Michael snorted and shook his head, a faint smirk painted on his face. “Listen kid, I don’t have time for that. I already explained what I was doing there to your dad.”

“Well,” Talia pitched in. “I haven’t heard it yet.”

The man sighed and pushed his plate away as he leaned back and crossed his arms. “I was hired to dispose of Kate last week. I already had some information on her from a past job so it wasn’t hard getting the rest I needed. I drove here and went out to set my traps up for her and then ran into this guy about to get his head blown off by my target. I did my job, which happened to save him, and here I am. That’s it.”

“Who hired you?”

“That’s confidential.”

She nodded and tapped her fingernails on the table thoughtfully. “You say you drove here but we didn’t see any cars near the area.”

“We’re in New York, do you know how easy it is to hide one?”

Peter chuckled at that and nodded. “That’s true. But you said you left traps out there. We should go take care of them before somebody gets hurt.”

“They’re not those kinds of traps. Honestly, what do you guys take me for? I don’t just go around hauling fifteen bear traps and a couple rifles with me, damn.”

“What kind of traps did you put out then? Kate’s an aggressive hunter, we’ve experienced and heard rumors about the sadistic events she’s organized.”

Michael tapped his elbow and the slightest hint of annoyance omitted from him before it was gone just as suddenly. “What do people like her want? It’s really not hard to figure out, even an amature could answer it.”

A series of short beeps came from his phone and he stood up from the table, turning his back to them without a word as he trailed off into the guest room. 

“Did you notice it?” Talia whispered to him. 

“He has… immense control over himself. It’s worrying that he can hide so much about himself.”

“I’m not talking about that. He closed himself off again.”

“I don’t think he was ever open, Talia.” Valerie said as she started on her second plate. 

“He was less tense than before though, after he came out of the library with you. What were you guys talking about?”

“We were reading and discussing. He knows quite a bit about vampires, I would’ve never thought of the things he told me.”

“I was hoping that he’d be able to bond with the kids when they get here, but if reading got him to loosen up that much I doubt they’d want to do that. Can you think of anything else that would interest him?”

“Why do you want to get close to him?” Valerie asked with a frown. “He said himself that he’s leaving once his leg is better. It won’t take more than a week for that to happen.”

“From the looks of it, he’s some sort of hitman. Kate was one of the most secretive people we dealt with and he was able to kill her that fast.”

“So you want him to join the pack?”

“I don’t care either way, but ultimately I want to help him. His mannerisms and the way he carries himself, it’s like he’s constantly ready to defend himself. It reminds me of Derek after everything happened and I hate it. He’s too young to be going through that, especially alone.”

“But he said he’s not alone, remember?”

“The people he hangs around with don’t sound like the best company either.” Peter draped his arm across his wife’s and looked at Devin when he coughed. 

“I don’t know if it’s relevant or not, but last night I heard him talking on the phone to this Macie chick.”

“Were you able to tell what they were talking about?” Talia inquired after a glance to the hall.

“He just asked her for a favor and then said that he’d take care of something when he got back.”

The adults shared a look and Devin nearly choked on the food he was chewing as he remembered something else. He took a quick gulp of water before continuing, his voice more raspy than it was a second ago. "He said that he'd be looking out for her and then he gave her our address. I don't remember any of us telling him, though, and we live out in a preserve so it's not like there's street signs or anything."

"That's a good point… do you think he's looked into us before?" Valerie glanced at her husband worriedly and Peter hummed as he rubbed soothing circles into her shoulder.

"I don't think so. If he did then we weren't his original targets. I doubt he'd show it again, but you should've seen the information he had on hand. It was… fantastic." He sighed happily and rubbed the area his wife slapped with a smile.

"Well. All we can do is keep an eye on him and try to help him as time passes. We don't want him to think we're just using him, either. I don't know how he'd come up with that since we genuinely do want to help him, but he seems suspicious of everything that he's not familiar with." Talia noted.

"I agree. Alright, I have to get this little lady to bed." He stood and picked Valerie up so he was carrying her, enjoying her squeal of laughter as he did so. "Goodnight, everybody. I'll see you in the morning. Devin, don't forget that your finals are coming up soon. Try to finish that study packet I made for you, alright?"

"Hmph. Whatever." Peter snorted and ruffled his hair as he passed him, sparing a glance to the guest room's door that was closed and most likely locked. They'd figure it out. One step at a time, everything would eventually work out.

*

Derek could tell something had changed the minute he had stepped inside with Laura. The air was different, more tense, almost. His mom had all but dragged them the rest of the way inside, sitting them down in the living room with a bright smile.

Laura's nose wrinkled. "Who's here?"

Frowning, he took a deep inhale to see what she was talking about and could catch the barest whiff of another person. It wasn't a scent that belonged to his family, it was too stressed and smelled too much like ink and worn out books for his liking, but underneath it all there were hints of pine and mint. He couldn't remember ever coming into contact with somebody who had the same smell. 

"Yeah, who is that? A friend of yours?"

"Mine, actually." Surprised, they both turned to see Peter, who was leaning on the doorway with a grin. "Incredible, isn't it? Wasn't it you two that said that I have no friends?"

"Wait, wait, wait." Laura smiled at him in excited disbelief. "You're telling me that somebody found your perverted, creepy self to be good enough company that they hang out with you willingly?"

"When you put it like that it almost sounds bad."

She snorted loudly and burst into laughter, smacking his arm as she stared at him with bright eyes. "Can you believe this, Der? We're gone for a couple months and Peter manages to make a friend. Who would be crazy enough to like him? Wait, are they here? Is that what that smell is? Oh, man. I gotta meet them." 

Their mom grabbed her arm as she stood up and shook her head. "He's staying with us for the time being, but he'll probably be leaving in a couple days. It's only until his leg gets better."

"What happened to his leg?" He asked without meaning to. Peter crossed the room confidently and sat himself in the recliner next to his sister. 

"Allow me to explain."

"Oh boy, here we go." Derek chuckled at his sister's commentary and relaxed into the cushions, knowing from past experiences how long Peter took to explain things.

"Simply put, he saved me. I had a run in with Kate while I was out patrolling and I would've been dead right now had he not showed up."

"Kate's here?" He felt sick to his stomach just at the thought of seeing her again. Wasn't this all behind them? Hadn't they moved across the country for the sole purpose to avoid her? Laura's hand found his own and squeezed it comfortingly. 

"She was, she's not anymore, though. Michael killed her and burned her body."

"Burned her?" Talia gasped. "I didn't hear about this."

Peter shrugged and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "I went back there last night to get rid of the body once I realized that nobody did anything with it. Once I got there, though, there was no body. I was looking around for hours and then I found some ashes. I ended up following the trail and then the smell hit me and I can guarantee you that what I smelled was burnt flesh."

"When did he do it, then? Wouldn't we have woken up?"

"My guesses are last night. I just don't know when because I went out right after Valerie fell asleep."

"So you're telling me that Peter's friend is a killer?" Laura looked between them before nodding her head slowly. "Yeah, that… that makes more sense, somehow."

"Either way, I owe him one. But that doesn't matter right now. Where was I? Oh, yes. So after he killed her and the rest of our pack came to help me, we noticed that he had gotten shot and-"

"Shot?" 

Peter gave her a look while their mom went to get drinks for them. "Don't interrupt. He took the bullet for me and Valerie tried to help him but he refused. Long story short, he ended up stitching himself back up after downing a bottle of vodka and then went to the guest room. I ended up talking to him some more yesterday and it turns out we have a shared passion for learning. He really is something special, really smart, too." He gave them a critical look and Derek felt like he was being judged. Harshly and wrongfully judged, at that. "You two could learn a thing or two from him."

"Mom! Peter said he wants us to turn into killers!" Laura yelled with a grin.

She came back in with homemade tea and set the pitcher and glasses in the center of the coffee table. "Peter, don't be putting those kinds of thoughts into my children's head's, please."

Peter rolled his eyes and was about to retort when the guest room opened and a series of hurried steps reached their ears. Peter sat up straighter, a concerned frown on his face while Laura leaned in closer to him. 

"Do you think that's him?"

"Who else would it be?" He mumbled back, watching the hallway expectantly. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the man. He was everything he wasn't expecting. Dark hair arranged into an attractive style with it all swept back, which gave a clear view to his face. Large amber eyes were focused on the door with a scowl that took nothing away from how _pretty_ his lips were. Even his nose was cute, for fucks sake. Derek's never even paid attention to those, what the hell was wrong with him? He was wearing a hoodie and jeans and while they hid his figure, he could still see how broad his shoulders were and the definition in his biceps, not to mention his thighs and that _ass_.

"Holy shit," Laura whispered. "He's hot. I never thought I'd say that about one of Peter's friends before."

Peter sent a glare their way and stood up. "Michael? Is everything okay?"

"No! It's not okay because this damn woman can never listen to what I say. How hard is it to wait for me to meet you, huh? Are you trying to get on my nerves?" They barely noticed the phone he was holding up to his ear, and that was only because the man, Michael, glared at it before putting it back to his ear. "And another thing! Who gave you the right to listen in on my conversations, huh? What if I was jerking off, what would you do then?"

Laura choked on her surprised laughter, a habit she's had ever since she was young, while Derek stared at the scene unfolding in front of him with wide eyes and a collection of scenarios running through his mind. Peter stood just behind him, arms crossed but a somewhat amused smile on his face as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"Of course I wasn't jerking off! Why would I do that when I'm on the clock?" He breathed harshly as he listened to what was being said. In what seemed like a second, his expression had closed off completely and his shoulders had rolled back into a confident stance that seemed to be more of a habit than by conscious thought. Even his scent, which had barely starting to come out during his rant, had disappeared. It left Derek for a loop and he exchanged a glance with his sister before looking at Peter, noting the way he had stiffened at the difference in Michael. They had no idea what was being said. Even with their advanced senses they couldn't pick anything up from the other end and only had the man's cues to go on.

"Michael-" Peter started lowly. 

"I understand. I'll meet you there, so don't go anywhere. Forget about my things, I just need my- yeah, that. I'll talk to you more once we meet up, I'm not alone right now." He hung up the phone and a tense silence had yet to be broken while he stuffed it in his pocket and sighed.

"Michael, is everything okay?" Their mom asked him slowly. 

"Yeah." He blinked when he noticed them sitting on the couch.

Peter tossed his arm around him and gestured to them. "Michael, this is my nephew, Derek, and my niece, Laura. They're both spoiled brats but they bring some good entertainment from time to time so I keep them around. Guys, this is Michael, the one I was telling you about earlier."

"Uh, right. Hi. Anyway, I'm going to go out for a bit. Thanks for giving me a place to stay and all that."

"You're leaving already? Shouldn't we check out your leg before you go? It's only been a day and Valerie gets off of work in a couple of hours so-" Talia tried.

"It's not a problem anymore." He managed to take a step before Peter pulled him back gently. 

"Where are you going? I'll give you a ride."

Michael gave him what was probably the best fake smile Derek had ever seen. "I already have a ride that's waiting for me."

"Are you sure you'll be safe?" Derek was completely lost. Why wouldn't he be safe with his friend?

"Why wouldn't he be?" Laura voiced his question.

"Exactly," Michael nodded. "I'll be okay." He pushed Peter's arm off of him with a nod and they all watched as he left through the front door without a second glance. 

"You have a strange friend, Peter." Laura finally said after a couple minutes of silence. Peter sighed and flopped onto the recliner. 

"Something's not right. I don't feel good about this at all." 

Talia patted his shoulder. "We already agreed that all we can do is help him. It's not possible to help someone who doesn't want to be helped. The last thing we want to do is make things worse for him."

"I think," Derek started slowly. "That you guys need to explain everything. Especially if there's a chance we'll be brought into it."

"Yeah," Peter sighed. "You're probably right."


	2. Chapter 2

The minute Stiles saw Macie, he gave her the coldest glare he could manage. Which wasn't that cold, to be fair. But he couldn't help it! He hadn't seen his best friend in months. She was hired to get rid of an up and coming alpha in the Bahamas and while he tried to go because _Bahamas_ , he decided to take Kate's case. He'd been dealing with her loose ends for years and had even wiped out a couple of her hide outs along with Macie. He didn't regret taking the case, especially since he was able to see how the Hales were first hand and because of that he was able to take their families name off of their potential suspects list for a different problem. 

"Stiles!" He rolled his eyes as she focused on his injured leg and pulled her in for a hug. Afterwards, she led him by the hand down the long hallway and hit the top floor in the elevator, radiating disapproval. "You never listen, do you? You're lucky that bullet didn't hit your artery or you would've been dead right now. How many times have I told you that you're smart enough to go to college, huh? I bet you'd be one of their best students, too."

"I'm not interested. This lifestyle has been working great for me."

Macie snorted dryly and gave him a condescending once over. "What lifestyle? You live out of hotels and off of room service, have no friends besides me, and refuse to get an education higher than your high school diploma. Not to mention that the car you're driving is ready to fall apart."

"And what about you, huh? You could be a top fashion designer and yet here you are, going around and offing people for money."

They stared each other down before grinning in unison, Macie slapping his shoulder fondly.

"I missed you. I did finish most things on my end, though. What about you?"

"The alpha won't be a problem anymore." She held up two thumbs and grinned when he nudged her with a smile.

"Awesome. I have a meeting with Angelo about Kate's last hideout. Her followers got away, Travis and Dan. Knowing them, they'll probably get a big head about surviving when she didn't and start making plans to take over."

Macie groaned and threw her head back. "Man, we can never get a break, huh?"

"Thanks for the suit, by the way. It's probably one of my favorites you've made."

"'Course it is, I don't have that degree for nothing. But I want you to put more stealth runes on my knives in exchange. Oh! And I want you to get more mountain ash and wolfsbane for me, too."

"Deal."

"So, how were the Hales? Anything worth mentioning while you were there?"

"Just that they're all crafted from the gods, I mean fuck, leave something for the rest of us." He grumbled.

Macie let out a series of loud cackles. "Oh, man. I knew I liked you for a reason."

"Because I'm hot and funny?"

"Because you're funny."

"Ouch."

The elevator doors opened and she sent him out with an encouraging pat on his back. "Let's go out for drinks to celebrate later."

"Celebrate what?" 

"Our reunion, of course!"

Stiles turned away with a beam and shouted his agreement over his shoulder, much to the annoyance of Angelo's cleaning staff. He missed the way Macie's face dropped into a guilty frown as she trailed him. 

"I'm sorry, Stiles. I hope you'll forgive me once you realize that it's for your own good."

*

Stiles knocked on the large oak door once for pleasantries before opening it. He'd smoothed out his suit beforehand and made sure that his appearance was appropriate for the meeting. Angelo was sitting behind the desk with papers strewn about and a face clear of expression. His graying hair was combed back and he took off his reading glasses when he opened the door. Brushing off his nerves, he smiled warmly and sat across from him after the man's nod.

"Stiles. It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"It has. I'm surprised you were the one who initiated the meeting this time around."

"I've gotten some disturbing news recently and wanted to make sure one of my best employees was in good health."

Stiles dropped the smile and leaned forwards so his elbows were rested on his knees. "What do you mean?"

"I heard that you were injured during the last job I gave you."

"Oh, that? That's nothing. It was just a light graze from a stray bullet."

"You had to stitch yourself up after drinking half a bottle of Vodka." He deadpanned. Stiles could see the worry in his eyes and sighed.

"Macie told you, didn't she?" He continued on when the man didn't say anything. "I've been doing this job for more than five years, of course I'm going to get hurt. But I'm really okay, I promise. It's healed up now, anyway."

"Okay." Stiles fidgeted in his seat. Nothing was ever this easy with Angelo. He was strict with his business and only smiled when he got news that one of the jobs he'd sent them out for had been completed.

"Okay?"

"Some of my men found another hideout of Katherine's. It was in Biarritz, a smaller seaside town in France. I'm going to send out a group to ambush it in a couple months."

"Why a couple months? Wouldn't it be better to get it settled now?"

"That's what I thought too, but then Macie brought up a good point."

"Stragglers," Stiles murmured as it hit him. "There'd be more out there."

"Exactly. Apparently the two men that escaped you are planning a big welcoming ceremony for hunters that Kate spent years recruiting. It's being held there in France in exactly three months." He took a drink of wine from the glass beside him as he eyed him intently, his blue eyes hard and calculating. "There's also rumors that your father's murderer will be there."

Stiles' head snapped up and he stared back at the man, holding himself back from shouting his questions. "Who'd you hear it from?"

"I overheard it while I was on a business trip back in Toronto. It seems like Katherine set up a series of trials for the applicants to complete before she accepted them into her organization. A test, if you will."

His teeth grit together and he had to force the words out of his mouth. "And what, killing an innocent sheriff and a handful of high school kids were a part of that?"

"Along with some other professions and statuses, yes. I recall that nurses were on the list." Angelo watched his reaction closely and Stiles couldn't help but picture a boy with floppy hair and a crooked jaw. Shaking his head roughly, he stood up and paced in front of the desk, arms crossed as he pinched his nose. 

"Alright. We need a plan, then. We need bait, someone that they'll want to kill to complete the list. I'm sure that they'll all be in a rush to get the list done as soon as possible so they'll be under more pressure and that'll make them more oblivious. Macie and I can pull it off, I'm pretty sure we'd be able to do it. I'll go and-"

"Stiles. Sit down." Angelo demanded in a low tone. Stiles glanced at him, ready to argue when he saw the man's frown. He slowly lowered himself back into the chair, wondering if there was going to be another bomb dropped on him. 

"Give me your leg." Angelo told him firmly, holding out a steady palm.

Stiles faltered. "What? Why?"

"Just do it."

"Uh… okay." He put his calf in Angelo's outstretched hand awkwardly, waiting for him to say something. When he tightened his grip on his ankle and brought up his other hand to clasp his foot, Stiles' heart skipped a beat and dread settled into his stomach. "What's going on?"

"Just stay still, I don't want you to get hurt more than this." He stood up and Stiles swallowed. He was freaking out over nothing. They've known each other since he was in high school. He was probably just checking the bone alignment or something, right? Right. He listened and shifted his weight so he was somewhat more comfortable and, albeit hesitantly, he forced himself to stay relaxed when he heard a loud snap. Time seemed to still before the pain set in, ferocious in its wake as it traveled throughout his foot and nearly up to his knee. He yelled and shoved Angelo away, tears lining the bottom of his eyes as he tried to understand what was going on. 

So many thoughts were going through his mind and his foot fucking _hurt_ and he just wanted answers but his mouth wasn't moving and he couldn't find the words he wanted to say. He stumbled, unaware of when he stood up, and put his foot down in his muddled state, nearly falling over when a new wave of throbbing and ache and _pain_ hit him, somehow ending up in his heart. A flash of dizziness came after that and Angelo caught his arm as he swayed, setting him down in the chair he was occupying gingerly. Stiles stared at him unblinkingly, giving up on wiping his tears when they kept coming despite his best efforts. His skin felt too tight and there was pressure around his eyes and it felt like his chest was closing in on itself but he couldn't do anything, not even walk away because he was- because Angelo had...

"Why…" He asked brokenly. 

"Because I know you. As soon as I gave you any more information you would have booked a flight and gotten yourself killed because you were too impatient to wait for three months. Don't even try to argue, I know you like the back of my hand." He sighed at the look he received and dug into the drawer of his desk, pulling out a pill bottle. 

Stiles made no move to grab it when he held it out and Angelo set it onto his lap. "They're pain killers. I made sure it's a clean break so you won't need surgery or anything like that. Macie went out to get the boot and crutches and-"

"Wait, Macie was in on this?" Stiles could feel himself dissociating. He knew the signs well by now, had gone through it multiple times in the past. First came the heaviness in his stomach, then his throat would close up and he'd be left feeling like he couldn't breathe. After that, the blood would rush to his ears and he wouldn't be able to focus on anything before he felt nothing at all. It was faster now, though. His head hurt. His brain was in shambles. Everything had happened too fast for him to keep up. Why had he come here in first place? What excuse had Macie told him? Macie...why would she...He could hear voices in the background but couldn't get over the fact that Macie, his best friend, the person he was closest to, had sent him in here knowing he would be hurt. 

Didn't she realize how important this was? His father's killer was going to be there, of course he would be eager to go after him for what he'd done! He'd spent weeks explaining his death to her, endless days of crying into her shoulder. It was the first time he'd ever cried in front of someone since his mother had died, and now he had a useless ankle and no work for the next three months because he was stupid enough to trust someone again. He was really naive, huh? To think that there were actually good people out there. He should've known this by now, but no, he had to push a little further until he got hurt again.

He came back to himself a while later. He didn't know what time it was but it was already dark outside and most of the lights were out in the penthouse, only a floor lamp lighting up the area. Angelo was seated across from him reading a pile of documents while Macie was snoring lightly next to his feet on a chair she had pulled up. Bile rose in the back of his throat at the reminder and he swallowed harshly before looking across from him. There, clad in a hard medical boot, was his left foot. It was resting on top of two pillows over the arm of the couch and he stared at it silently. Why couldn't they just tell him not to go and have somebody follow him? He'd probably try to lose them but he wasn't naive enough to think he could take on an entire organization of cold blooded killers by himself.

"I gave you some morphine. It should last an hour or two longer." Angelo told him as he signed a paper and moved on to the next. "I already stabilized your foot so as long as you stay off of it for six to eight weeks you'll be fine. That leaves time for any physical therapy or adjustments you'd need to get used to before the attack, also. The crutches are next to you. I want you to get used to them here before you go back."

"Go back _where_?" Stiles coughed at the hoarseness of his voice, glaring at Angelo when he tossed a water bottle to him. He took a sip anyway, the dryness of his throat too irritating for him not to.

"You had a run in with the Hales, correct? They seem like good people and have a doctor on hand. You'll be okay there."

"I wasn't planning on going back. I'm not going to be a freeloader for people I don't even know."

"They seem to be willing to know you, seeing as how Macie caught them looking for you earlier."

"They were probably making sure I wouldn't come back." Stiles grumbled. 

The man didn't bother with trying to humor him and instead handed him a brown folder with multiple dividers inside. It was kept closed with the string attached and Stiles slid it off, curiosity winning him over. He pulled out the first paper and made sure that his face stayed passive. "What is this?"

"Information. Each portion in there has data on all of the people who'll be at the hideout when you go. You need to find out what's true about them and what's not so that you can brief your team properly. Just because you're injured doesn't mean you can stop working, got it kid? There's a whole other life out there. What're you going to do when you find a real career that you actually like?"

Stiles kept quiet and fingered through the rest of the papers. He wouldn't find another job, he'd been wrapped in this one too long. The way he looked at things was too different from other people and he'd be the first to object to him working anywhere else but in this field. 

"Anyway. I have to board a flight in a couple of hours. I just wanted to make sure you were safe and informed so I-"

"So you broke my ankle and gave me a shit load of reading material."

"I'll know that you're safe because you can't go out and get yourself killed." He gave him a stern look. "And that's not the last of it, either. I know you'll probably finish that in a week so I'll send some more every Saturday until we have another meeting with everyone else."

Stiles hated how he couldn't tell him he was wrong. Turning his face away from him, he sat up and put a hand to his head when a wave of dizziness hit him. Angelo was there in a second, supporting his back so he didn't fall. 

"Get up slowly, Stiles." He chastised. "Here, use my arm to get up and then I'll give you the crutches. I already had someone run out to get you some clothes so you don't have to worry about that. Macie brought your laptops, too."

"Whatever." Grabbing the end of the end of the couch instead of his arm, he hefted himself up. He kept his balance pretty good and only swayed a couple times before he grabbed the damned crutches. He noted the duffel bag that was by the elevator and gestured to it. Angelo stepped away once he saw that he was steady and went to retrieve it.

"Macie and I packed it for you. It should last you until the next time I call. I put another bottle of painkillers in there, also. I figured you'd refuse to take the ones I offered." 

Stiles gave a curt nod and made his way to the elevator, biting his lip grimly at how loud they were. Angelo didn't say anything to him as he handed the bag to somebody, telling him to drive back to the Hales. He pushed the button to the elevator doors angrily and the man rushed in beside him before they could close. Stiles leaned against the railing and tightened his grip on the crutches, letting his mind go blank before he refocused on the folder in his hand. He handed it to the man and threw his head against the wall, clenching his eyes shut as the light chirps from the passing floors ticked by. 

*

Peter wasn't one to panic. He wasn't. If anything, he was the one to calm the people who were panicking. But with the way his heart was racing and the scenarios running through his mind couldn't be anything other than that. Derek and Laura watched him pace as Talia called her husband to see if he'd seen Michael anywhere. 

"Why are you so worked up? He's with friends, isn't he?" Peter shook his head and forced himself to sit back down, tapping his foot restlessly. 

"David hasn't seen him either," Talia announced. "He said that he'll keep looking, though."

Derek looked between them, his eyebrows drawing together at their overwhelming concern. "Why do you guys care so much? Didn't you just meet him a couple days ago?" 

"It's...complicated." She responded. "He reminded me of someone." She prayed that her son wouldn't ask who he reminded her of and thanked her lucky stars when they heard a car a couple streets down. Wait-

"I thought Dad was going to keep looking," Laura trailed off when the car made a turn on their street, the headlights shining from the end of the long driveway. "Was somebody planning on coming over today?"

Derek stood up along with her, letting his nails grow longer just in case. Peter was already by his mom and they shared a silent conversation with their eyes, looking away just as the car parked and a door slammed shut.

"St- Michael!" A man's voice rang out, tinged with worry and irritation. "Let me help you with the-"

"I don't need your help." Derek recognized the voice from earlier and made a face when he recognized what sounded like crutches. What was going on? Peter was already at the door and flung it open, the resounding slam echoing through the silent house. His mom wasn't far behind and hissed for him to calm down under her breath. Laura was next, making her way over to them and trying to peek over their shoulders to see what was going on with him trailing her.

"Michael," Peter's attention was drawn to the boot before looking up at the man, forcing down a string of curses at the bloodshot eyes, the only hint of expression on the otherwise emotionless face. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Sorry, but I'm going to have stay longer than I planned to. I'll look for a hotel later and-"

"Absolutely not," he interrupted fiercely. "We let you go once and you come back worse than you were before."

Michael didn't say anything as he walked closer to the door, keeping his head down when he passed Talia and himself. Peter was uncomfortable with the sudden change in him, the vulnerability a stark difference than the confident man he'd seen and gotten used to before. He caught the attention of Derek and Laura, gesturing for them to move out of the way. Huffing, Laura went to sit on a stool near the kitchen counter while Derek was a bit slower, looking over them before he joined her and initiated a hushed conversation.

"Michael." Peter made a move to intercept the man that he'd arrived with but Michael looked back, just for a second, and it's enough for him to hold himself back. The man swallowed and passed them with hesitant steps before putting a hand on Michael's shoulder. He looked back at them, at how stiffly Peter was holding himself and his sister's smile that's anything but welcoming, her two children paying close attention from where they are in the background. Sighing, he leans in close to Michael's ear as if they wouldn't be able to hear everything he says. "You know that Boss, he's a… he's a good man. You know that everything he does has your best interest at heart, even if he doesn't say anything."

Michael's shoulders tightened even more, to the point where Peter thought the muscles would be sore the next morning. The man put the bag he was carrying down and gestured to it with his hand. "He said to tell you that he already put the money in there. He'll give you the other half later." Peter was sure that he wasn't the only one who caught the emphasis on 'later'. 

Michael scowled and put both crutches under his other arm to bend down, picking it up and slinging it onto his shoulder before placing the crutch back where it was. It was awkward, incredibly so, but he managed to make his way to the guest room. They all winced as the door slammed and the man sighed before he gave them an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that. I'll take my leave now."

"Tell us what happened to him." Peter demanded. "When he left earlier all he had was a couple stitches and now he comes back in a boot and crutches."

"There was just an incident that happened at work."

"Work? So your boss did do it to him, then."

"Peter," Talia warned. "Let it be. We'll ask Michael later."

Grumbling when she flashed her eyes, he went straight for the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine, pouring half of its contents into a glass and drinking it all in one go. He didn't look at anybody as he turned around and headed to his room. "Tell Valerie that I went to bed early."

"I will." There was a slight pause and he had already opened his door when she finished her thought. "Don't worry, Peter. You're not the only one who's uneasy about this. We'll ask him tomorrow and try to figure out a solution."

*

As it turned out, they didn't get a chance to ask him what had happened until almost a week later. Michael had taken to locking himself in his room and must've put a soundproof rune or sigil or something, because they couldn't hear anything from behind the door for the life of them. The only time anyone so much as caught a glimpse of him was when he forced himself out of his room - yes, everyone was well aware that the room was _his_ now- and even that was only twice a day. Once at exactly five, right when the sun would rise, and the other sometime ranging from seven to eight. Peter himself, Valerie, Talia, and even Laura had tried to coax him out but other than Michael opening the door a crack to tell them he wasn't interested there was no result. They were growing more and more restless every day that passed. Valerie had expressed her increasing concerns multiple times when they were all together, from the depths of his eye bags to his injury that they still had yet to know exactly what it was to the way his face was becoming more pale and gaunt.

Surprisingly, or maybe not because out of all of them he was the one who had a shorter temper than all of them, it was Derek who managed to drag him out of his room. That night, he'd pulled an all nighter until Michael went to use the bathroom the following day and blocked his way back into the room as soon as he finished. Or so he was told by Laura. He still didn't know what his nephew had told him, but that morning they had all woken up to a pair of agitated men, one of them sitting on the chair closest to the window, freshly showered and typing furiously on his laptop with a pile of documents on top of a folder next to him on the arm of the chair. Derek was scrolling through his phone with a scowl, his legs crossed in front of him. 

Talia was, as always, the first to recover from her shock. "Good morning, Michael, Derek." She greeted cheerfully, making her way into the kitchen to dig out pans for their breakfast. "Are you hungry? I'm thinking pancakes and fruit for today."

Michael shook his head without looking away from the screen. "I already ate."

"You ate a piece of toast, Michael! That's not eating!" Derek yelled. Peter jolted at the unexpected interruption and shared a glance with his wife as Michael's head snapped towards him.

"I told you that I was full." He told him slowly, something dangerous under his tone. "Do you need me to spell it out for you?" Derek glared and Michael returned it with one of his own before Valerie coughed to hide a smile. The two of them looked away and 'hmph'ed under their breath in unison. Peter raised an eyebrow at the two women at the abrupt development. Talia shook her head but didn't turn away fast enough to hide her amused grin.

"Three months, you can do it." Michael mumbled under his breath as he continued on typing. Peter sat on the other end of the couch that Derek occupied, close enough that they could have a quiet conversation if they wanted to and far enough that Michael wouldn't feel closed in or pressured. 

"What have you been up to this past week? We've hardly seen you outside of the room." Peter spoke casually as he leaned against the cushions with a content sigh. 

"Working."

"That's a shame. I found a journal from a retired emissary that was friends with a pixie colony. There's some pretty interesting observations in there, but since you're busy I'll put it back later today." 

"What are you trying to do?" He asked with narrow eyes. 

"Well, right now I'm trying to relax and have an engaging conversation with you. How's your foot? Ankle?"

Michael's eyebrows furrowed and his face hardened as he focused back on the paper he was reading. Peter didn't push, knowing the likelihood of him answering would decrease the more he pestered him. Finally, after a couple minutes of listening to his sister and wife debate how much food to cook and the occasional snort from Derek as he messed with his phone, Michael answered. "It hurts. But it's not like it's only…" He bit his lip and chewed on it, as if he were trying to come up with the right words. A few seconds later, Peter sat up straighter when Michael looked at him, a glazed look in his eyes that held a storm of emotions which he couldn't decipher because they were so muddled together. Talia and Valerie fell silent as his breath hitched and even Derek looked up with a small noise of confusion. 

"It's more than the actual physical pain, y'know? It's like being forced into a situation but not really because you want to be there, you really do, but then you get there and everything that you've heard about it, everything that they made sound so easy and peaceful is gone and you finally realize for the first time what a shit show your life is. But it's too late to go anywhere because you're already in too deep and so you push the emotions down and just do it because you're _good_ at it, everybody tells you you're the best and so you can't just quit, you can't just run away and hope for the best. But then something happens and the one thing that you thought would be there forever, the one support system that you relied on and put years and years into building backfires and does the one thing you don’t expect it to and then you get hurt. It's like all of the defenses you've planned over and over again are taken away from you in a second and then all of those feelings come back up because suddenly you're on your own and vulnerable and can't do any of the usual things you want to do like run away and try to figure out what kind of sick world you're living and how you should adapt and where your fucking place in the world is now because it's obviously not-" He took a shaky breath and blinked, realizing how much he had said. 

Shaking his head, Michael shifted and stood up, collecting all of his things and putting them into the drawstring backpack he’d brought out before putting it on. His hair cast shadows over his eyes as he moved back towards his room. "The painkillers are working, it doesn't hurt at all." Michael’s voice broke on the last word as he closed the door, his breathing coming in irregular spurts.

Peter was shocked, he couldn't comfort the man even if he wanted to because his mind was running in all directions to try and figure out what Michael was talking about. What was it that he was forced into and yet he wanted to stay? Or did he want to leave but couldn't? He _was_ talking about himself, right? He had to be. And the support system, what was it? Or was it a person? Maybe a group of people? Did they know about his injury or… or were they the ones that had hurt him? A cold chill ran down his spine at the possibility before a burst of protective rage spread through him rapidly.

They all stared at the door, not knowing what to say. Valerie frowned and put down the bowl of pancake mix, moving to sit beside them on the couch. Talia followed her and sat in the newly vacated chair. 

“Did he say painkillers? I don’t remember the guy he was with talking about a hospital or anything.” Derek grumbled. Valerie’s eyes snapped to him and she crossed her arms as she thought back on it. 

“He had to have, though. He came with that boot and the crutches and apparently the painkillers, too.”

“But he didn’t smell like the hospital,” Talia interrupted. “There was no sterile scent on him or the medical equipment.”

“So how’d he get it, then?” 

“They were talking about their boss, Michael and whoever that man was. Do you think it had something to do with them?” Valerie inquired, looking between all of them.

Derek frowned and leaned forward so his elbows were relaxing on his knees, his hands clasped together. “That would mean that whoever he was with purposefully hurt him to the point of being immobile on his own, and then gave him all of the things he would need to recover. That’s just ridiculous.”

“Not if they were friends,” Peter mumbled. “He mentioned a support system that failed him. I think that could be the friend he went out with.”

“So his friend was the boss?”

“It was a woman he was talking to, though. The man that dropped him off said that their boss was a good _man_.” Talia muttered, deep in thought. “They had to have a reason on top of that, too." Talia sighed. "You sure know how to pick your friends, huh, brother?” 

Peter rolled his eyes at her wry grin but had to agree with her, however grudgingly it was. He’d make sure Michael was in good hands. It was the least he could do, especially since he was the first person he’d consciously tried to become friends with in years. Since he was in high school, actually. He’d never seen a reason to have friends when he had his pack. People outside of his family would leave him, that’s how it’s always worked. But he wouldn’t let Michael leave him, particularly because he seemed like the kind of person to throw himself head first into a dangerous situation without a second thought. He didn’t know how he would do it yet, but he’d make sure that Michael knew he could trust them with his life.

*

Valerie nudged him awake the next morning with an annoyed grumble, telling him to get his ass out of bed and go see what the yelling was about. It takes another five minutes for him to actually do so and after he pulls on a shirt that was thrown carelessly to the floor the night prior, he rips their door open with a scowl. He wasn’t too keen on being woken up by force, especially before the sun had risen. Still, he pushes it down and glares down the hall, where Derek’s silhouette is towering over Michael’s, arms crossed over his chest and anger radiating from him. Then the yelling starts again and Peter is confused and mildly impressed with himself on how he’d slept through it with how loud the two boys are being.

“Do you want me to break your other leg? Would that make you sit still for one goddamn minute?” Derek snarled.

“You just try that shit and I’ll cut your hand clean off, s’not like you do anything useful with them anyway!”

“Excuse me? Say that again, I dare you.” Derek stepped closer until their chests were nearly touching and Peter moved to intervene when Michael tossed his crutches to the side, the crash that echoed undoubtedly waking up those who haven’t been already. He took a step on his injured foot, his jaw tightening when he put weight on it but ignoring it in favor of fisting his nephew’s shirt and dragging him down to stare him in the eye. He had brought out one of the blades he’d used before and in an instant he held it towards Derek’s throat, resting the metal to his skin. Derek glowered down on him and Peter looked to his sister when she fell in line beside him with a wrinkled brow and concerned eyes.

“I said,” Michael whispered threateningly. “That if you so much as take one step towards me, I’ll cut your fucking hand off. Got it?”

“Boys,” Talia called, her voice too light for the situation and adding another layer of tension as they gave her their focus. “It’s not even six. Let’s save the bickering for later, yes?”

Michael snorted and let go of the shirt as if it insulted him, pocketing the blade into his sweatpants and gripping the doorway as he leaned down to pick up his crutches. Peter sent a glare towards Derek and went to help him, moving the duffel bag out of Michael’s way so he could get to the bed sooner. Now that he looked at it, though….

“Michael,” Talia started softly. “Have you been sleeping? It doesn’t look like you’ve gotten a good rest since you’ve gotten here.”

“Eh?” He looked at the bed and how there wasn’t a crease in the blanket or pillows, then shrugged and gestured towards the desk before moving to flop onto the chair. There were three laptops open, each one with multiple tabs open and in a language Peter didn’t recognize. There were piles of paper scattered on the flat surface, all of them having sentences highlighted, underlined, circled, or with comments scrawled on the side in thick, furious strokes. “I’ve been sleeping just fine here.”

“That’s terrible for your back.” Peter frowned.

“I have more problems to worry about than my posture, thanks.” Michael eyed him before crossing his arms. “Why aren’t you asking me?”

“I have a lot of questions to ask so I’m not sure which one you’re talking about.” Michael hummed and studied him, his eyes flicking to the two in the hall and narrowing when he made eye contact with who he was assuming was Derek. He was proven right when, not a second later, a low growl filled the hallway before being interrupted by a slap and muttered 'ouch'. Michael sighed after Talia apologized on her son's behalf and turned back to him, as if he'd come to a decision.

“How about this, I’ll answer one of your questions,” he held up a finger and wiggled it, almost provokingly. ”But you have to do something for me.”

“And what would that ‘something’ entail?” He asked with a cocked brow. 

“That depends on the question you ask.”

Peter smiled at him. “Mysterious.”

Michael shrugged and turned back towards the bright screens, his fingers making themselves comfortable as he began typing. “It’s the truth. You don’t have to decide now but I’m like you in the sense that I don’t like waiting.”

“I see. Well then. I’ll have a question ready for you by the end of the night.” He left before the other man could say anything, avoiding Talia as he made a beeline for office. This was obviously a test, Michael had made that clear, but what he was testing was the question. He settled into his chair and crossed his legs, tapping his knee with one hand as he blocked out his sister scolding Derek. He’d need to really think about this. 

*

It wasn’t that Stiles hated the Hales. He was indifferent to them, really. They were just another pack that he accidentally stumbled on during a job. It’d happened before and this definitely wouldn’t be the last time, either. Still, there were two exceptions this time: Peter and Derek. 

It was true that he’d saved Peter out of instinct. He had a track record for not having any innocents killed while he was on the clock and he worked hard to keep it that way. But the man was too observant for his own good. The first night he had stayed because of that damned bullet he noticed it straight away, the man’s calculating eyes as he took in everything about him. Ever since he let him down from his back, the wolf had been in his line of sight. It was unnerving having somebody who he wasn’t close to that willing to be around him. He was used to being alone and while he wasn’t ecstatic about it, he’d grown used to the fact. Which is why Peter Hale was messing it all up. It started innocently enough, sure. Just a couple hours spent reading the bestiaries and journals together. It gave him some more insight and he’d written down everything he tucked away while reading into a long document that he immediately saved to his hard drive before deleting. That was just the start of the problem, though.

Stiles was getting used to being around him. 

That, that right there was just unfathomable to him. He didn’t have friends or anybody he could call to hang out when he was feeling lonely. Angelo was his boss and Macie was on jobs more often than not. As pathetic as it was, there were only three numbers he’d consciously remembered and one of them he hasn’t called since he graduated high school. So it’s understandable why he would try to put distance between Peter when the first sparks of interest came. Peter was easy to be with, comfortable, even. He didn’t push him and seemed to sense when he wanted to be left alone. Plus, he had a dry humor that always lifted his mood. He was getting attached to his company. Just after he’d realized that, he’d gotten that phone call he’d jumped at the chance to get away from them, to recenter himself and re-prioritize his goals. And then Angelo had to go and break his fucking ankle and send him back to the place he was trying to get away from. 

And that’s where Derek came in. Derek was, in a nutshell, everything he hated. He blurted out whatever without thinking about it and then placed the blame on others when it backfired. He was rude, stopped talking on the few occasions he left the room, had a constant state of grouchiness and glared at him for no reason whenever he noticed him. Sure he was polite, but it was so obviously fake when he’d been wishing death on him just a few minutes before. There was also the whole shower fiasco, where the man had told him he was revolting and shoved him into the bathroom with a towel. He didn’t let him out until he showered and then yelled at him _again_ when he came out with the towel wrapped around him. After he _kindly_ explained to the wolf it wasn’t possible to change when he had no clothes, he stormed past him on his crutches and purposefully kicked his Achilles tendon with the crutch, taking pleasure in the way the man growled at him. 

So there were obviously problems with him staying in the Hale house, and that’s excluding the familial feeling that was everywhere he turned. It was nostalgic and it sucked. Stiles had been the one to leave and he knew and owned up to that, but it still hurt being reminded of what he had lost everyday. With the way things were going, he’d only get more used to the Hales and that scared the shit out of him, especially because he knew that it would be returned. Peter was already trying to build a routine with him, inviting him to read in his office together a couple hours a day which he refused. Each and every time. But the man was persistent and Stiles did want to read them, a fact that the man knew and held onto. He would accept it eventually, there was no doubt about it. The library that Peter had was no less than a hidden treasure. But not even two weeks had passed since he came back from Angelo’s and he was already in this state. It was ridiculous and he hated himself for it more as each day passed.

Which is why he came up with the question and favor tactic. It wasn’t a solution by any means, but it would buy him time. He’d used it in the past and it had worked... well enough. People were hungry for information, the things they didn’t know and desperately wanted to. Stiles knew that and used it to his advantage. He already knew what favor he would use, there was no other choice but for him to use it. He just hoped that Peter wouldn’t ask anything that hit too close to home. Knowing his luck, though, it would happen regardless of what he wished for.

*

Peter had been thinking about it all day. He knew that his family wanted to know the obvious things: where he went and why he came back injured, who he was hanging out with and if they were the ones who had hurt him. But those were all things that he was expecting, Peter was sure. He’d thought about asking what that rant was about too, but it wasn’t likely he would get an answer that satisfied him. So he came up with one that would, hopefully, answer a couple of questions at once. 

That evening after they were done eating, Peter knocked on Michael’s door, an additional plate full of food in one hand. The man didn’t say anything, but he didn’t complain either so Peter took it as a win and put it on the desk, out of the way of the papers and laptops. 

“I take it you thought of a question?” Michael asked idly, making himself comfortable in the chair after he shut the door.

“I did.” Peter sat on the edge of the bed and scrutinized him. “Just to be clear, I have your word to answer truthfully, correct?”

Michael narrowed his eyes and an offended noise slipped from his throat, nearly making him smile. “Obviously.”

“Alright then. Well, Michael, this is my question for you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees to give the man his full attention. “The day we met, the way you tended to your wound as if it was instinct, how you came back from wherever you went with a man you saw as a stranger, and how you always try to avoid spending time with any of us.” He ticked off his fingers as he stated his observations and noted the way Michael’s jaw tightened and the skin between his eyebrows bunched together. “Those are just some things I noticed about you. I came up with my own theories, of course, but I figured it’d be better to get a straight answer from you. Everything points out that you’re used to being on your own and while you don’t seem substantially bothered by it, none of us see you smiling either. So, Michael. Why are you alone?”

There was a heavy silence that fell on them. Michael broke it first, running a hand through his hair as he sighed, almost as if it were a self depreciating matter. He leaned back in the chair and swayed himself back and forth with his good foot. “You’re really not making this easy for me, huh? I can’t say I wasn’t expecting it, though. Alright then, I”ll answer your question as long you promise me that you’ll do what I say.”

“You never told me what that was.”

“And I won’t tell you until I need you to do it.” 

Peter suppressed a frustrated groan and nodded. “Fine. I promise you.”

Michael gave him a humorless grin and gazed at his boot clad foot. “All right then. I guess we’ll have to go back to my high school graduation for you to understand. There was an incident that happened during the graduation party. My friends at the time, we were all pretty close knit and decided to just throw one big one so we could all be together. We spent the whole year planning because _somebody_ switched the damn color scheme every other week. Anyway, we were all looking forward to it and it was going smooth until the last half hour.” Michael swallowed and stopped the chair from moving as he threw his head back and stared at the ceiling. “To make a long story short, my dad was murdered and all of my friends were put in the hospital. I called the police and then booked it out of there. I already knew what the chances of them surviving were and I didn’t want to stick around for their funerals. So I left. That’s where my current boss found me. I was somewhere in the western states when I decided that I’d confront my dad’s murderer. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Michael shrugged and glanced at him with hollow eyes. “I still don’t, really. But I have something to talk to them about and an idea of how it’s gonna go. My boss and I made an agreement. He’d find the best martial artists and fighters to train me and I’d lend him my services once I was good enough. We’ve been working together since he found me and that eventually led me here. You know the rest.”

Peter was silent as he came to terms with what he’d been told. He’d gotten more questions to ask than the ones that Michael answered and the way the other man didn’t elaborate on what ‘services’ he provided made his stomach clench. He couldn’t ask that, though. Not yet, anyway. It was better to stick to the boundaries that they’d set by trial and error. “So you’re alone by choice.”

“For the most part, yeah. Man, I haven’t talked about that in years.” Michael put a hand to his neck as he cracked it. 

“Thank you. For telling me.” He elaborated at the confused look.

“Well we have a deal, y’know. I expect you to keep up your end when the time comes.”

Peter stood up and rolled his shoulders as he stared at him. “You seem to be confident that such a time will come.”

“Of course I am. What do you think I’ve been preparing for this whole time.”

“Work?”

“Hey,” Michael frowned and nudged his stomach with his crutch, smirking when he jolted because of the cool metal. “Speaking of jobs, what do you even do?”

“I didn’t tell you? I’m a stripper.” He raised a suggestive eyebrow and smiled to himself when Michael released a surprised trickle of laughter.

He would come up with something that would help him. He was too young to already be living a life of solitude. First thing's first, though, and that's creating an environment in which Michael would be comfortable and want to stay on his own free will, meaning that he'd have to have a discussion with his dear nephew to figure out what was going on between the two of them. 

How joyous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! This came out faster than I expected! Next chapter will have some more of Derek and Laura and maybe Devin, too. Thank you the kudos and comments! They let me know that you're interested in this and it gives me so much more motivation to write it for y'all and your comments always make my day better! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it - Stiles getting hurt aside-


	3. Chapter 3

Devin growled and threw his pencil and notebook to the side, crossing his arms while glaring at the textbook in front of him. The problem stared at him mockingly from the coffee table and he had just enough self control to refrain from tearing his claws into it. Picking up his phone with a scowl, he tapped his friend’s number and typed out a message asking if he understood how to solve the problem. Before he could hit send, however, a hand shook the textbook in front of his face.

Gripping his chest as he fell backwards, he stared at Michael with wide eyes. The man raised an eyebrow at him with a light smirk but said nothing as he flipped through the pages until it reached the bookmark. “What the hell are you doing? Shouldn’t you be sleeping? You’re human, right?”

“And you’re a hormonal werewolf in high school. Who do you think will be affected worse, huh?” He shot back lazily. 

Rolling his eyes, he slouched into the couch and eyed him wearily. He still didn’t know much about the man other than the fact that he saved his dad and worked for a shady company. He was too secretive for his tastes and while it was interesting at first, it was getting pretty old pretty fast. He watched Michael nod to himself as he sat on the couch, setting the crutches aside as he made himself comfortable, the textbook and notebook in his lap.

“What’re you doing?”

“Helping you, what does it look like?” Devin gaped as he held the books out to him, taking them with a cautious hand after the pointed cough. “ _Why_?”

“Do I need a reason to want to help?” Seeing that he wouldn’t say anything, Michael tapped the book and scooted closer so they could both read it. “Start with this one. You wanna find x, right? You need to get rid of the denominators first and then rewrite the second equation. After that you multiply the first one by four and the second one by negative seven to cancel out y.”

Devin blinked at him and slowly put his phone down as he followed the instructions. After he did as he was told, he glanced at Michael hesitantly, sharp comments ready on the tip of his tongue to defend himself on why he had messed it up. Surprisingly, the other man gave him a grin and a slap on the back, a bit too roughly for his liking but he was too ecstatic to care. Algebra was his worst subject and he’d been on the brink of failing for the entire year now, and yet as Michael helped him work through the problems he felt as if he’d known how to do it all along.

“You’re second guessing yourself too much. You’re a smart kid, you got this.”

“Not according to my teacher. She said that if I don’t get at least a B on the next test I’m screwed.” He scoffed at the reminder.

“Well, fuck her, then.”

Devin let out a bark of startled laughter. “What?”

Michael shrugged nonchalantly. “Why should you have to bend backwards for someone who belittles you? I had a teacher like that when I was in high school, y’know.”

“Really? What happened?”

“I gave him hell and relished in his agony.”

“You killed him?” Devin shouted, wincing when his voice echoed through the otherwise silent house. 

The man chuckled and crossed his arms with a sinister gleam in his eye. “‘Course not. I drove him up the wall and out of the school with my good grades. Teachers like that are just waiting for you to fuck up so they can ‘make an example of you’.” He rolled his eyes at that before continuing. “If you can’t please them, provoke them. Do it the right way and eventually they’ll show their true colors and that’s when you win. You get it?”

“...No?”

Michael snorted and pointed back to the book. “You will. Now do the next one.” 

As they worked through the end of it, Devin fully relaxed and managed to put the questions he’d fostered all year into words. Michael was a good teacher, a great one, actually. He could understand everything the man said and it seemed like a much lighter load of work than his teacher had talked it up to be. But even though the man smiled and guided him through the assignment, he couldn’t help but feel like he was only a distraction. There was a certain vibe Michael was giving off and his eyes kept darting to the windows and door like he was expecting something to happen. Now that he thought of it, that’s what he’d been doing ever since he came to stay with them. Devin shook his head and refocused on the numbers in front of him. There was nothing he could do that would make Michael answer his questions. He’d just have to wait it out like the rest of them.

*

Stiles stared at the phone as it buzzed in front of him, Macie’s name flashing on the screen. It had been a little more than two weeks since the _incident_ and he hadn’t heard a word from either of them. Until now. He bit his lip as the phone convulsed, debating on whether or not to answer it. It could be important, he knew, but it could also just be her trying to apologize which he wasn’t ready to hear. He was still wrapping his head around everything that had happened and the fact that it had to have been discussed behind his back. Sighing as it fell silent, he rubbed his face harshly. If it was really, truly important she’d call back. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to talk to her because of course he did, she was one of the only people he had left. He just wasn’t ready to hear her try to validate herself. If there was one thing he hated, it was half assed apologies. He’d heard more than enough of them from the doctors and nurses while his dad was wheeled out from the hospital room. Apologies meant that he had to accept something and that- he wasn’t good at that. At all. Scratching his neck, he grabbed his laptop and shoved it into the front of his sweatpants, the only place that it wouldn’t fall out of while he hobbled to the living room. 

Laying the damned crutches to the side, he sat on the edge of the couch and pulled the computer out to rest on his knees, bringing up the screen that held the information they had of all the people attending the ceremony. He’d already gone through them all but he needed a distraction and double, or triple checking in his case, never hurt anyone. Taking a deep breath, he clicked on the first name that appeared on the list and reread through their details, adding extra comments and observations where he felt necessary. 

He lost count of how many hours he’d been awake, but apparently it had been enough time for the sun to have risen hours prior. Devin slumped beside him on the couch and he stiffened when he noted how the majority of the Hales had settled around him without him realizing it. “I hate math.” He whined.

“No you don’t.” He responded instinctively. “You hate the person who teaches it. I thought we had this conversation already.”

“It makes no sense! Why do I need to know how to make two equations to find proportions, like when will I ever need that for my career?”

Stiles gave him the best unimpressed look he could manage. “What field are you going into?”

“I want to be an animator.”

“Then you’ll need to know ratios for the things you’re drawing and make sure that they have the same portion size. Like I said, math is used everywhere.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

“But it’s systematic which makes it eas _ier_. Plus, I helped you the other day.”

“You did?” Three voices asked at once, each one ranging in their level of surprise. Stiles looked at Peter on the other side of Devin and the Hale siblings who were eating at the counter. Peter’s lips quirked and Stiles narrowed his eyes at him before answering.

“I _did_ graduate, y’know. Salutatorian, too, may I add.”

“Really? Huh. I thought you just went around offing people for the fun of it.” Laura spoke through her pop tart. 

“Laura,” Talia admonished. “Watch your words.”

Stiles couldn’t blame her, he had lost count of how many times he’d debated with himself over that topic. He liked to think that he was helping people but he knew that at the end of the day the fact was that he had killed people. It wasn’t a comforting thought and had often nearly brought him to the edges of a panic attack, but he always managed to find a way to distract himself, whether it was a quick hook up or sleeping pills. He’d prefer the latter but when his mind was too muddled and racing with the things he tried his hardest to avoid he found that the quickest way to get rid of them was to be in a situation in which he controlled. Hence sex. He didn’t even _like_ sex, hated how the whole concept of it was to show vulnerability to the other person. 

Which is why he never took off his clothes when he found someone. It wasn’t like he was wearing as many layers as he could, mind you, but he did tend to wear thicker clothes and jeans that made it easier to take his dick out. That was another thing, too. He never bottomed. Now, it wasn’t as if he hated the thought but he was too… guarded to let anyone top him. He’d tried it once when he first started working with Angelo and before he knew what had happened he’d stabbed the poor guy in the stomach and was staring at the tear stained, fear stricken face. Angelo hadn’t said anything, just gave him a rough pat on the back, muttered something about trauma and instincts, and had Macie take him back to her flat while he took care of it and he was _not_ going to think about that anymore. 

Didn’t the kid say he needed help?

“It’s fine.” Stiles held out his hand for Devin’s notebook and he wasted no time in handing it to him, scooting himself closer so that he could point out where he was. He found the problem the second he looked at it. “You’re not doing the first step and that’s throwing the rest of it off. You have to rewrite the equations and then after you do that you cross multiply.”

“Oh.” He took it back with a small ‘thanks’. Devin, the oblivious teenager he was, didn’t notice his longing glances towards his room and pulled him into yet another line of conversation. “Say, if you’re this smart why don’t you get a real job?”

“I do have a real job.” 

“What if you get caught? Won’t you go to prison?”

“I won’t.”

“But what if-”

“Devin. Enough.” Peter stared at him balefully and he huffed out his frustration.

“I’m just saying that you’re smart, dude. Really smart. You could probably go and find a job that’s safer, y’know? One that doesn’t involve you putting your life on the line.” The last part was so low that Stiles had to strain his ears to hear it, but when he did all the negative emotions he’d been harboring for all of two minutes vanished and he couldn’t help but ruffle his hair.

“That’s why you gotta study and get a ‘real job’, although I’d like to think that mine is pretty difficult, too.” 

“How so?” Laura asked. She threw the wrapper away and sat down on the arm of the couch, draping her legs across Peter’s legs. He rolled his eyes at her but didn’t brush her off and Stiles smiled as he closed his laptop, chuckling to himself as he thought the best way to word his responsibilities without revealing too much.

“It’s like any other job at the fundamentals, I guess, but other than receiving assignments from my boss we don’t really talk that much. I’m in charge of coming up with plans and carrying it out before the deadlines.”

Talia nodded her understanding. “I can imagine how stressful that’d be.”

Stiles snorted. “You have no idea. Percentages, probabilities, theories and perspectives and who will do this at what time. Gradually, slowly you integrate yourself into the target's mindset until your wavelengths match up. You’ve gotta observe them: their hobbies, their lifestyle, their closest friends and those who they can’t stand. You have to know everything about them without them realizing that you do. Then, and only then, is when the operation can start. That’s not the hardest part, though.”

“Then what is?” Laura leaned forward, completely enraptured in what he was saying.

“It’s coming back from that. But once you do, it’s almost like...” You stopped someone innocent from being killed. His dad’s smiling face struck him and he shook his head. He couldn’t say that. Not yet.

There was a brief silence before, surprisingly, Derek broke it. “You sound like you enjoy it. Your job, that is.”

He met his eyes and shrugged, albeit dejected. “It’s not so much as I like it. I just do what I have to. I’ve picked up a lot of useful things on the way and I always have somebody who calls me every month to check up on me, so that’s cool. And the benefits are top tier.”

Derek exchanged glances with his mom, a bad taste in his mouth at the way Michael worded it. “What kind of benefits do you get?”

“Paid vacation,” he pointed to his foot lazily, but they all saw the hardened flash that went through his eyes. “Traveling. Flexible schedule.”

“Isn’t that like half of the jobs around here, though?” Devin questioned with a furrowed brow. “Why can’t you just put in your two weeks notice and look for a different one?”  


Despite his best efforts, Stiles laughed. Quite loudly and sarcastic, too. The Hales stared at him expectantly and he brushed his finger under his eyes to rid them of the tears. “It’s not possible.”

“What do you mean?” Peter’s face darkened. “Are you being forced to work?”

“Chill, dude. I already told you that you’re more attractive when you’re not looking like you’re feral.” Derek choked to the side of him and he sent him a concerned glance, dismissing it when he saw Laura pounding on his back with one hand and hiding her snickers behind the other. 

“Anyway, that won’t work. I’m already… well known throughout my field. I’m basically my boss’s right hand and he’s pretty handy to keep around even though he can be a dick. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to work anywhere else and if I quit I’d have nowhere else to go.”

“You’d have us. You’ve already been with us for a couple weeks now, Michael. You should know us better by now and that we don’t mind your company.” Talia chastised lightly.

“You don’t know _me_ though. Hell, I don’t know myself sometimes. I’m not good with staying in one place for a long time, I get restless and then somehow end up in situations that blow my mind. I told you that one about the shark tank, right?” He aimed the question at Peter and grinned toothily at his expression.

“You did, yes. Even I’ve got to say that I’ve never heard of something like that.”

“I’m telling you, man. Shit just happens to me.”

“I can imagine.” He said dryly. 

Before he could challenge his friend -and whoa, when did _that_ happen?- his phone went off, reminding him of the new workload that’d be arriving soon. 

“What’s that?” Derek growled, frantically looking out the window as if he were expecting a group of people to ambush them.

“Just a reminder for work, nothing to flip out about.” He shut off the alarm and groaned as he stretched, his shirt riding up to expose his abdomen.

Peter grinned sadistically and cleared his throat. “Derek, why don’t you help Michael bring his laptop to his room? I’m sure he’d appreciate it.” His nephew looked up from where he was messing with his phone stiffly, his shoulders hunched to hide his reddened ears.

“What?” He gaped, looking between Michael and back to him.

“How else do you think he’d carry it?”

Michael rose from his spot, wielding the laptop in one hand. “I can just do what I did last time and stuff it in my waistband, no worries.”

Derek blinked at him, his eyes trailing to his crotch and then rushing to go back to his face. Peter could smell his embarrassed interest from miles away, but because he was the cool uncle, he bit his tongue. 

“Idiot.” Derek grumbled. He got up smoothly and hesitated for a second before taking the computer from Michael's hands. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Right.” He responded, confusion and mild amusement weaved throughout his tone. Shaking his head, he pointed at Devin while he got himself comfortable with the crutches. As comfortable as he could, anyway. “You, keep working on your math and remember what I told you. I’ll check it over later since I have some time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go back to your cave.”

Michael rolled his eyes and nudged the kid with the end of his boot as he walked by. “Gladly.”

As soon as the two of them had disappeared down the hall, Peter waved Laura over. “I need your help with something.”

“Huh? Why’d I help you?” She asked suspiciously. 

“You want Derek to stop waking you up to complain about his love life, or lack thereof, don’t you?”

“Alright, what’re you thinking?”

“I have a feeling that Derek will set himself up, so all you’ve got to do is tell me when he goes to your room to complain or sulk.”

“Got it. I’ll see you in about five minutes, then.” She giggled at his face and poked his cheek, just like when she was still a pup. “You still have a lot to learn, Uncle Pete. Things like Derek coming to me when he’s upset is like clockwork and since I’m the person he vents to, I know most of his habits. Come to my room in five, I guarantee you he’ll be there.”

Peter grinned and patted her shoulder in thanks. He and Michael had grown closer within the last couple weeks and he had a feeling that the other man didn’t realize the full extent his words went. He was blunt to the point of being rude but because they all had a hint of understanding, for the most part they understood what he was trying to say. What he was interested in was how his nephew would take it. After all, two people who were iffy at best with communicating having a conversation would be an interesting sight to see. Especially when one of which was a hardened assassin and the other an -for the most part- innocent man who hated being put on the spot. The two made an interesting dynamic but he felt that everything would work out eventually.

*

Derek did his best to hide his discomfort as they came to a stop inside Michael’s room. Every surface was covered in his smell and even though he tried his hardest not to think about it, he couldn’t help but take a couple deep inhales. It wasn’t his fault, alright? Michael smelled good. It was an overpowering scent but soft around the edges somehow and it only made him all the more endearing.

“Well, this is me.” Michael drawled. He nodded to his desk. “You can just put it there. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem.” He obliged the request and set it down gently, curiously scanning over the multitude of scrawled notes scattered around the desk’s surface. He recognized some french but they were written so erratically he couldn’t really tell what it was meant to say. He also caught Kate’s name in there and rolled his shoulders to rid them of the tension that built at the reminder of her. Michael cursed behind him and he turned around just to see him trip over an open duffel bag. Instincts taking over, he rushed to catch him before he could fall.

“Are you okay?” He asked worriedly. 

Michael groaned and glared at the crutches that were piled by the door. He pat his chest and hummed. “Yeah, thanks Der- huh.” 

Derek froze when he cupped his face, turning it this way and that. “What’re you doing?” He asked through pursed lips when the man pushed them together. 

“Just hold up a minute, I’m checking something.” Michael continued to examine him and as soon as the insecurities were building up within him, because _why_ would he be studying his face like it was the most interesting thing in the world, the man stepped back and picked up his crutches.

Derek stood straighter and eyed him wearily. “What is it?”

“Y’know, I never thought this would happen, but I guess I should expect the unexpected by now.”

“What?”

“I just thought that you’re pretty hot, that’s all. I mean, you’ve got that whole, y’know.” He waved his hand at him nonchalantly, but Derek could’ve sworn that he saw the faintest hints of a blush on his cheeks. “That whole wild appearance but softy at heart kinda thing about you. I mean, you look pretty intimidating but that’s sexy, too and I saw you that one time when you helped that squirrel to get some more of the bird feed outside before Laura yelled at you, so that’s where the soft part comes in. And your smile isn’t so bad either, you should do that more. Plus, you look like you give really good hugs. Oh, and then when you-”

“Goodbye, Michael!” Derek’s face was burning by the time he ran out of the room, his heart pounding loudly in his chest as he tried to get a grasp on what the hell had just happened. Did that mean that Michael liked him? Or was that just a way to tease him? But he didn’t seem like he was poking fun at him and he looked surprised that he found him attractive at all. So he had a chance then, right? His head started pounding and he focused on forcing his feet to move at a normal speed instead of sprinting to Laura’s room like he wanted to.

“Laura!” He whispered loudly as he rushed into her room, spinning around to close the door quickly. “You’re not going to believe what just happened! I almost just- what’s this?”

Laura grinned triumphantly at her uncle and put down the deck of cards she was shuffling before turning to her adorably confused little brother. “Hey, Der! So what happened? And why are you still standing up, come sit down.”

He slowly made his way to where she was patting the bed, staring at Peter with skepticism all but pouring out of him. “Why’s he here?”

“I have a name, dear nephew. And I’m here to help, of course.”

“With what?”

“You like Michael, don’t you?”

Derek flushed and began to mess with her blanket. Laura rolled her eyes fondly and relaxed against the headboard. She swore, sometimes her brother never changed. This was just like when he was in middle school and saw a dick other than his own for the first time in his gym locker room. She still remembered it like it was yesterday, how she went to pick him up after hearing him panicking over the phone and drove them both home before all but forcing him to tell her what happened. A couple minutes of blushing, stuttering, and whispered words later and she got the gist of what had happened to throw Derek into an existential and sexuality crisis at thirteen. Their mom let him stay home the rest of the week because she was worried about him wolfing out in the middle of his classes, and even though he isolated himself in his room for the entirety of it, she knew that he appreciated having his space to think.

But that was a different scenario and she would choose sleep over his repetitive complaints any time. 

“So, what did the apple of your eye do this time?” She asked easily. 

“Uh…”

Peter held up his hands innocently and gave him an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my mouth shut. I do have _some_ standards, after all.”

“Right. Well, um. He kinda called me hot? And said I looked like I give good hugs?”

Laura let the words sink in and then burst out into uncontrollable laughter. “Derek, I love you but you’re an idiot.”

“Hah?” He growled. 

“I have to agree with her. I mean, it’s obvious you like him and -no, no, don’t make that face. Even Talia knows that you do. It’s not a big deal and you could do worse.” 

“This isn't helping me. Just thought I’d point that out.”

“Start with being friends,” Laura suggested. “But that means you can’t be giving him dirty looks anymore and you can’t just stop talking once he comes into the room.”

Derek scowled. “I don’t-”

“You do.” Peter cut him off knowingly. “Even Michael notices it, it’s why he never tries to initiate anything with you.”

“So what do you two suggest then, huh? It’s not like I can just start talking to him like nothing happened.”

The duo in front of him shared a look. “Yes you can.”

“But I don’t even know what he likes! And what if I accidentally hit a touchy subject? None of us know him that well.”

Peter raised his hand and waved it mockingly. “I do.”

“Exactly,” Laura nodded. “Peter, tell him what Michael’s interested in and then tomorrow when you go to pick up that journal take him with you and Derek will tag along, too. That’ll give you plenty of chances to talk with him.”

Derek opened his mouth to argue but didn’t get a chance before Peter cut him off. 

“That works. Alright, listen up. As far as I know, Michael’s pretty interested in the supernatural and history. Every time we’re talking in the office he’ll bring up random facts, too. If you ever get stuck talking to him then just try to surprise him with something you know, he loves learning new things. Just don’t mention anything about his job or why he joined it and you’ll be fine.”

“Right. So talk to him and if that doesn’t work try talking some more.” Derek said flatly. “Sounds like a great plan.”

Peter slapped his shoulder and stood up, giving it an encouraging squeeze as he headed towards the door. “Just give it a try. He’s unpredictable and you don’t know that much about his past so just be cautious.”

Laura waited until Peter left before dragging him into a rough hug and messing with his hair. “Don’t worry so much, from what you told me he’s at least attracted to you. You’re a keeper, Der, and if he can’t see that then it’s his loss.”

“...Really?”

She smiled warmly and rested her head on his shoulder. “Really. But in turn of my awesome advice, you’ve gotta watch this movie with me.”

Derek looked at the frozen TV screen and groaned as he settled next to her. “Again?”

“Quit your whining, you like it too.”

*

Stiles had jerked from his daze to a series of knocks on his door before Peter let himself in and he should really, really consider putting that one rune back up. It’d make his life so much easier. 

“Morning, Michael.” The wolf said cheerfully. “Although it doesn’t look like you’ve been sleeping.”

“Insomnia’s a bitch, but it lets me get work done so I can’t complain all that much. Anyway, what’d you need?”

“I’m going to get a journal from an old emissary and I’m dragging you with me.”

“But work is-”

“You said you had time yesterday so don’t even pull that. Come on, you’ve been cooped up in the house for weeks now, let’s go get some fresh air.”

And that brings him to where he was now, seated right by a silent Derek who was glaring out the window in the backseat. He’d tried to sit passenger but Peter refused because ‘No, Michael, I won’t be able to see with your crutches in the way’. It was the most obvious lie he’d ever heard but he didn’t try to argue anymore. Derek was… interesting. He’d mellowed out a lot since he first arrived and while they still sometimes got bickered, they rarely actually fought like before. The times he’d actually heard him conversing with his family were pretty amusing, too, because the majority of the time it was either Derek trying to defend himself from something Laura had brought up or he would just think of something that interested him and talked and talked about it until the other person agreed with him. It was kind of adorable and Stiles liked the sound of his voice, low and soothing with a rough undertone. 

“Michael, do you know who Sandy O’Claire was?” Peter asked suddenly. 

Stiles frowned and leaned forward, his arm resting against Derek’s ever so slightly. He didn’t move it and the other man didn’t do anything but suck in a breath and stiffen a tad, so he just let it be. “No, was she important or something?”

“Derek knows more about her than I do, but she was a well known witch back in the eighteenth century.”

Stiles’ eyes widened and he turned to the wolf eagerly, overlooking the dark look he sent to his smirking uncle. “Dude, tell me about her! What made her so powerful? What was her childhood like? Did she create any new spells or did she just stay in the lines of the ones before her? Wait, was she alone or did she travel with other people?”

Derek stared at him as if he couldn’t believe he was actually talking to him. Peter must’ve mumbled something because he shook his head and then cleared his throat before scratching the back of his hand. “I don’t know a lot, I just did some extra research when I was in college a couple years back.”

“Tell me everything you remember.” Stiles ordered half playfully. He’d heard of a couple powerful witches from the past but other than the obvious ones he didn’t have that much to go off of. He’d never even heard of the name Sandy O’Claire and his interest was piqued to say the least. 

As it turned out, apparently she was one of the most badass witches to ever exist. She was known for her loyalty to friends and absolute blood lust for those who went against her or the ones she cared about. She was one of the first witches who started writing down their spells and runes and all that for other people to learn from instead of just teaching orally, too. And while that was awesome, he didn’t really understand why they’d brought her up all of a sudden.

“The journal we’re getting is a copy of one of the first ones she’d written. It’s been translated over a hundred times so the wording might be a bit rough but I think we’d be able to get the main point out of it.”

Stiles hadn’t felt this excited over anything for years now, could hardly remember the thrumming enthusiasm and eagerness that spread throughout his body. He was actually looking forward to something, something that involved people who he’d known for less than a month and that was… he wasn’t sure what it was yet, but it wasn’t bad, he didn't think. 

“So?” Peter glanced at him with bright eyes through the rear view mirror. 

Stiles blinked and looked at Derek questioningly, huffing when the man sent a teasing smirk back and knocked their shoulders together. “What did you say? I was thinking of something else.”

“I’m sure. I was asking if you’d be interested in trying to translate it more fluently. The copy I bought is about to fall apart and there’s a mixture of languages in there, too. Since you have the time, why not help us out?”

“Yeah, okay. But I still have to focus on my job and -wait, us? Who else is gonna help?”

“He might not look like it and he hardly puts it to use, but Derek is majoring in linguistics. He wants to be a work at home translator for magazines and books and all that stuff.”

“Dude,” Stiles grinned. “That’s awesome! How many do you know so far?”

Derek shifted in his seat and looked out the window before scoffing slightly and looking at him again. “Right now I’m fluent in thirty seven and I can understand about fourteen other ones.”

“Holy shit, man.” Stiles scooted closer, wincing when his foot hit the seat. “Wait, so how many years have you been in college now?”

“Seven? About?” 

Stiles shook his head and laughed, somewhat unbelievably. He couldn’t imagine sitting in rows in a room full of people, not now that he’d experienced the kind of monsters humans could be. His anxiety would be off the charts and he’d end up spending most of the time debating the best escape routes and what to do if a situation that had a low chance of happening actually happened. High school was a different story, back when he was innocent and he couldn’t care less what people thought, but he knew better now and sometimes passing thoughts were the start of a massacre. 

“I thought that Derek could help us out with the words we didn’t know while we rewrite and format the content. What do you think?”

“I’m in. But like I said before, I have a big assignment coming up and I’ve gotta organize and validate the notes before then. I should be getting another batch of those relatively soon, so I don’t know how much time I’ll have.”

“I can help you if you want.” Peter offered. 

Stiles snorted and leaned back on his seat. “You know I can’t do that. Even if I did need help, which I don’t, by the way, I’m under oath to make sure things stay strictly confidential.”

The man conceded with a wave of his hand and pulled into a driveway of a house that looked closer to a cabin. Getting the journal was a fast and easy exchange, a couple of words shared between the two of them before Peter came back with a bright smile. He flipped through it gently and sighed pleasantly, handing it to him as his other hand started the car. 

Stiles took it excitedly, tracing the spine with his finger and running it along the deep creases and folds. He paged through it, stopping occasionally when he saw something interesting. The ride back was quicker, Peter and himself filling in the silence with enthused thoughts and predictions of what would be in there. Even Derek put his two cents in, translating a couple sentences when Stiles asked if he knew what they were. Stiles had never been so thankful for the training to hide his scent, especially when his nether regions gave an interested twitch at the added drawl in the wolf’s tone. 

Talia waved at them as they entered the house again, pointing at the phone that was pressed to her ear and rolling his eyes. He couldn’t help but grin at her antics, mouthing a sarcastic ‘Good luck’ to her and felt a surge of warmth go through him when her smile softened and she laughed softly. Peter tossed his keys on the counter and all but dragged him to his office so they could start. Stiles didn’t mind, though. He liked being able to do something that wasn’t work. 

It had struck him while they were in the car, but he had really warmed up to the Hales faster than he thought he would. It was still kind of awkward with Derek, but there was a lot less tension than before and Laura was a trip with more jokes than he expected, even if they were at her brother’s expense. Talia had this air around her that made him want to lower his guard and ask for a hug, maybe even an ear to listen to him. He nearly had, once when she caught him eating chips in the early hours before the sun had come up. He had held his tongue, but even when he didn’t say anything she gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze that all but screamed ‘We’re here for you’. 

Peter was great, too. Sometimes, when the two of them were bantering or throwing theories and ideas at one another, it reminded him of his time with his old friends. How Lydia would roll her eyes and call him an idiot with that smile or when Scott would stand up for him even when they both knew that he was wrong. Peter was one of his closest friends now and Stiles was starting to really like hanging around him, especially because the older man never pushed. 

“Michael, you’ve been staring at the same page for a while now. Are you trying to read it or memorize it?” Peter quipped. 

Stiles shoved his shoulder and grumbled at his laughter when he flipped the page. He managed to hide his smile, though. That counted for something.

*

Peter glanced up when he heard Michael’s phone ringing, surprised when he didn’t answer it right away like he usually did. Instead, he spared a quick look before muting it, turning back to the shelves that showcased sweets. 

“You’re not going to answer?”

“It’s not my work phone so I usually don’t unless I recognize the number.”

“You have two, then?”

Michael shrugged and Peter internally scolded himself when he saw his facial muscles tightening as he grabbed a bag of small chocolate bars. “I couldn’t bring myself to leave it behind. All of my old friends know the number on it so I pay the bills to keep it activated.”

“Just in case.” Peter finished. 

He swallowed roughly and nodded. “Yeah. Just in case. I mostly get spam calls on there, so feel free to answer those for me.” He tossed the bag into the cart and hobbled beside him on the crutches, a small breath of chuckles escaping him when he saw Laura and Derek bickering in front of them. 

“Noted.” Peter sighed when Derek ran into an older woman and began to apologize profusely to her, sending glares at Laura when she snickered. 

“Are they always like that?”

“Sadly. You get used to it, though.” A woman strolled by them confidently, carrying a large bottle of alcohol in one hand. She spared him a cold, steeled over glance before shooting an unrecognizable look to Michael. She didn’t stop though, just continued her brisk walk to the end of the aisle before turning left. Derek and Laura didn’t notice her, too absorbed in debating what to have for dinner. 

“That was-”

“I’ve gotta go to the bathroom,” Michael interrupted. “I’ll be right back.” 

Peter couldn’t see his face, but from the determined set of his shoulders and the steady pace he shuffled at, he had an idea of who that woman could be. As much as he was tempted to follow them and make sure he was okay, he swallowed his pride and forced his instincts down. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a relapse in their friendship by breaking his trust, especially because of what he’d gone through just a couple weeks ago. Taking a calming breath, he rolled his shoulders and headed towards Derek and Laura. 

*

Stiles trailed her until they were outside of the store, annoyed and out of breath because those crutches that he’d been using? They’re a fucking work out. By force of habit, and maybe a little worry underneath all that, he scanned her over to look for any new bruises or injuries she may have gotten in the weeks they weren’t talking. 

“I’m kind of surprised,” Macie started. “I thought you’d be holed up in a room working like you always are.”

“I’m sure you’re not here to talk about my working habits.” He responded curtly. 

Macie nodded and jerked her head towards a car he’d never seen before. “I have the next load of your assignment in there, Angelo asked me to deliver it because he was held back in a meeting. There’s also something we need to talk about.”

“Right.” Neither of them offered to chat as they walked and just when he was starting to feel restless because this never happened, this wasn’t _like_ them, they reached the car and Macie slid into the backseat along with him. It was surprisingly roomy in there and he was able to stretch out his foot more than he thought, which was great because he hated feeling the solid boot on his other leg. 

She handed him another folder similar to the first one he received and he flipped through it, stopping at a picture of a tree with deep gashes in it. “This is…”

“Yeah, I know.” Macie sighed and rested her back against the door, frowning at the picture along with him. “The person we’re going to meet up with in France sent us that, said that it looked like they weren’t only introducing humans this time.”

“So we’re not only dealing with a shit load of bloodthirsty hunters, but werewolves too. That’s fanfuckingtastic.”

“We don’t know if it’s a wolf yet, but that’s what it looks like so far. Which is why we might need… extra help, if you will. Somebody who can pull off psychological magic.”

Stiles frowned at her pointed expression and then released a controlled breath of air when he caught on. And then another one for good measure. “You want me to call Jennifer.”

“It’s good that you understand the situation.”

“Do you know how hard it is to reach her? Who knows where she-”

Macie rolled her eyes. “She practically adopted you, Stiles. Every time you guys meet up I’m surprised she doesn’t kidnap you and wrap you in blankets and feed you cookies.”

“That… I could go for the cookies part right about now.” He admitted. “But that isn’t the point! How’d you know that we were here anyway?”

“I didn’t. I just stopped by to get this,” She waved the bottle in her hand proudly. “When I saw you walking around with them. They _are_ hot, aren’t they?”

Stiles leaned forward and nodded wildly. “Dude, you see what I mean? Like, I’d be happy with any of them but Peter’s married and Laura’s been dating this one guy for months now and Derek’s hot too, but kind of- wait.” He shook his head and pointed at her. “I’m supposed to be mad at you right now. You went behind my back, knew that Angelo was planning on breaking a _bone_ in _my_ body, and somehow decided that was okay. Honestly, Macie, what the fuck? I thought we were friends.”

Her face drops and her shoulders slump and Stiles praises himself internally for not saying it’s okay like his head screams at him to. Her eyes are apologetic and full of guilt when she meets his again and that, yeah, that’s a lump in his throat right now. 

“I know I fucked up and you have every right to be pissed off at me. I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m asking you to put this behind us while we’re working together.”

Stiles bristled and he scowled at her. “What, you think I’m not mature enough to do my job properly? Did you forget how hard I worked to be able to work with you and Angelo? Fuck, Macie, just because I’m mad doesn’t mean I’m going to let you get killed or that I’m not going to look out for you.”

“That’s not what I-”

Stiles shook his head and opened the door, cursing when his crutches got stuck. They came loose with a quick yank and he stuffed the folder under his arm as he turned his back to her. “I’ll try to get a hold of Jen and I’ll start going through these tonight. I’ll talk to you later.” He hesitated when he was a couple steps away from the car. Without turning back, he told her a quick ‘be careful’, before catching up with the Hales, who, luckily, had finished their shopping and were heading back to their car.

Peter smiled at him when he fell into step with them and called Derek’s name, who had been waiting by the doors for him. Stiles was too distracted by his thoughts and missed how Derek shoved Laura out of the way so he could sit next to him in the backseat. He did, however, notice the subtle sniff the man took and sent him a questioning look that had made the flustered wolf avoid eye contact with him until the end of the drive. Stiles sighed and thumbed the folder in his lap. He didn’t have time to think about how attractive the blush made Derek, not when he had to call his mentally unstable friend and sort through the new workload.

Things were starting to get muddled already and with werewolves thrown into the mix it was all the more complicated. But this was what he signed up for and he’d be damned if he let a few unexpected factors scare him off.

*

Derek closed the journal after he finished typing the last of the translations and rubbed his eyes tiredly. They had all been working endlessly and after Michael had received more paperwork to go through he didn’t have the time he did before to help them out. He still pitched in when he could, but Derek felt bad whenever he saw the dark bags under his eyes and the yawns he tried and failed to keep to himself. Peter had reminded him to take breaks but Michael hardly responded to them, instead working himself harder in an attempt to balance the two out. 

“You should try to talk to him.” Laura told him. She finished her text and nodded to Michael’s door. He’d been working in there more often than he wasn’t, but the difference this time was that he kept it open. It was only a crack, but they all felt marginally better hearing the rhythmic clicking of keys coming from the room.

Derek shrugged and picked up the remote, looking for a show that wasn’t too boring. “I don’t want to distract him. Did you see how much he had to go through? I mean honestly, that folder was huge.”

Laura nodded her agreement and then stilled, asking in a hushed whisper, “Do you think that’s like his hit list or something?”

Derek’s eyes widened and he slapped her shoulder, eyes automatically checking the hall to make sure Michael didn’t hear them. “Laura!” He hissed. “You can’t just say stuff like that!”

“I’m serious! We’ve all gotten used to him but we can’t forget that he’s literally killed people before. Plus, remember what Peter told us? That woman in the store? What if she’s like his partner or something? Like the whole good cop bad cop thing. Wait, would Michael be the good one or the bad one?”

Derek didn’t bother to respond, trying to remind himself that Michael was a good person. He was funny and smart and clever and wasn’t afraid to stand up for himself, even if it was against a being more powerful than him. He was like a mass of mysteries and Derek was dying to at least solve _one_ , whether it was who had hurt him or how he’d end up working at a job like that. 

It was weird to think that Michael was a criminal, especially with how close everyone had gotten to him over the last couple weeks. It wasn’t like he held himself any different from the first day Peter dragged him to their house, and he still had that hardened edge to him, but they all just… got used to it.

Peter coughed over the book he was reading and raised his eyebrow when he looked back at him. “Is there a problem?”

“Do you think he’s going to kill someone again?” Derek blurted and then instantly cursed himself when Laura’s eyes snapped up, too.

Peter sighed and put the book away, leaning forward in the recliner he was occupying. “We don’t have the right to tell him what to do and what not to do. He’s not the kind of person to just sit back and listen to people, especially ones he hasn’t known for that long. All we can do is wait it out, like I told your sister.”

She scoffed at his surprise and flipped her hair defiantly. “I like him too, you know.”

“I didn’t even say anything.” He grumbled back.

“You didn’t have to, your eyebrows did it for you.”

“What? That doesn’t make sense.”

Laura clicked her tongue at him pitifully. “Oh, Der. If only you knew how much those glorious arches of yours gave away.”

Scowling when he felt his face heat, he threw a pillow at her and smirked when it knocked her mascara out of her hand. She retaliated with a low snarl and launched herself at him, laughing when they tumbled to ground. Peter rolled his eyes at their antics and silently longed for the day they would mature. Low murmurs came from Michael’s room, followed by the soft click of his door closing and presumably locking. 

Laura huffed and tucked a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. “See what you did? He probably thought we were distracting.”

Derek rolled his eyes and strained his ears to see if he could make out anything from the room, but to no avail. His stomach dropped at the possibility that Michael was closing himself off again and he nearly jumped when Peter gripped his shoulder comfortingly.

“Don’t worry, he’s just on the phone with somebody. You know how he is with privacy and chances are that it’s his boss or something related to his job.”

“How do you know?”

He smiled teasingly and cocked his head. “Because unlike you children, I’m aware of my surroundings and I heard his phone go off.”

“Wait, then whose phone is that?” Laura pointed to the vibrating phone on the couch.

Derek shrugged, watching as his uncle picked it up curiously. “It’s Michael’s other phone, he said that he mostly gets spam calls on it but he keeps it active just in case.”

“In case…” He trailed off in hopes of getting more info and gave up on ever receiving it when his uncle picked it up with a pleasant smile that bled through to his voice.

“Hello?” Gradually, his smile fell off and he was left with the most confused expression either of the Hale siblings had ever seen on him. “No, I can’t say that I do. Are you sure ‘Stiles’ is a real name?” 

The voice on the other end grew louder in their annoyance and Laura held in a snicker as Peter pulled it away from his ear. After the woman had calmed down some, he brought it back hesitantly, ready to put more space between them again if need be. 

“Yes, I promise if I’ll call you back if I hear any news on this Stiles. Of course. You have a good day no- and she hung up.” 

Derek raised an eyebrow and caught the phone when it was thrown at him, Peter shuffling back to the chair and falling into it with a sigh. “What are parents naming their children these days? Honestly, you two should be grateful. Did I ever tell you that I was the one who helped your mother name you? It's a funny story, actually. You see, we were-”

Derek was up in a flash and had his sister’s arm in his hand in another. He pulled her towards the door and shouted an apology over his shoulder. “We have to run to the bank, sorry!” 

Peter rolled his eyes and flipped his book open as the door slammed shut. “Honestly, just say you aren’t interested. Brats.” He grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So things are starting to pick up! I'm thinking around 3 more chapters? We'll see, but boy are you guys in for a ride! 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!


	4. Chapter 4

Putting his hand on the wall for support, Stiles took a breath before standing up from the desk and taking a step forward. It had been two months since the incident and he was relieved that the pain wasn’t nearly as bad as the first time he had tried walking on it. Granted, the first time was three weeks in and not his best moment, but he was just so sick of wearing the damn boot and hearing the annoying clacking of the crutches. He tested a few laps around the room and grinned widely when he finished. Besides the few times his ankle wobbled, everything seemed to be fine. 

Fist pumping the air giddily, he pulled out his phone and sent Macie a message in his excitement. It was simple and straight to the point, just reading a short ‘I’m back, bitch.’ underneath a picture of his sock clad foot. He tossed the phone onto the bed and stared down at it as he moved his ankle this way and that, his smile spreading as nothing seemed to register as overly painful. 

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.” Stiles mentally made a checklist of what had to be done that day and promptly forgot it the second he opened his door and heard the warning growls from the Hales. Cursing under his breath, he picked up his pace and came to a stop when he rounded the corner, his feet sliding against the hardwood underneath him. 

The woman at the door snapped her head towards him and grinned sharply. She waved her hand and all at once the Hales were thrown to each side of the room, allowing her to stride towards him freely. Their growls increased and he rolled his eyes at her taste for drama but couldn’t help the reluctant fond smile that settled on his face. 

She threw her arms around his neck and tugged him harshly to her chest, laughing when he tried to push her away before wrapping his own around her waist. He pulled away first and snorted when he saw her scantily covered body. 

“Michael,” Derek growled. “Who the hell is that?”

Jennifer glared at him and showed her true face for half of a second, finding pleasure in the way they did a double take. “Watch your tongue, wolf.” 

Stiles nudged her side and nodded to them. “Leave them alone, I’m already here anyway.”

Huffing, she did as he asked but sent a glare his way. “Still no fun as always, I see.”

“And you’re still dressed as a slut. Guess nothing changes around here.”

“Hey, don’t forget just who it was that gave their virginity to me in the first place.”

Stiles crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at her, ignoring the sudden silence that fell upon the Hales. “I was barely eighteen and just witnessed my family getting murdered in front of me, forgive me if I wasn’t in my right mind. Besides, you invited me out for drinks, not some sacrifice sexcapade you had planned.”

She shrugged and flicked his jaw with a flirty smile. “Either way, it was a win-win for me.”

“I bet it was,” he grumbled. “Anyway, to answer your question, this whack job is Jennifer. AKA the dark druid who has a head bounty in nearly every country.”

Talia shook herself out of it and stepped forward somewhat cautiously. “And you’re… friends with her?”

“More like a partner and non consensual student.”

Peter shook his head and raised his hand, taking a deep breath before staring at Stiles as if he’d seen him for the first time. “Hold on. Just… wait a minute. So you’re telling me that the dark druid who’s been missing for over three decades not only taught you, but… took your virginity? And you’re still familiar with her?”

Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed and he exchanged a bewildered glance with Jennifer before rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean… I didn’t mean to say the last part, but yeah? For the most part, anyway. And she’s not _that_ bad…” He trailed off at their dubious expressions and shrugged, somewhat helplessly. “She doesn’t kill people anymore?”

Jennifer sighed heavily and tossed her arm around him, leading him to the door as she ignored the objecting sounds from the Hales. “Listen, I cleared off my schedule for this whole month just cause I heard you needed to talk to me, so I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know exactly what it is you want. Without an audience, if I didn’t make myself clear.”

Stiles pulled her arm off of him and bent down to put on his shoes, his mind zoning in on what Macie had told him and how to word it without having the druid storm their stronghold single handedly and ruin their nearly perfect plan. “I figured. I take it you already have somewhere in mind?”

She gave him a look that screamed a sarcastic ‘Obviously’ and just touched the door knob when Talia of all people grabbed his shoulder, lightly enough that he could shake it off if he wanted and really, he thought that was the reason why he was willing to hear her out. 

“Stiles,” She sent a hesitant glance at Jennifer before steeling herself and studying his face. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I don’t like this…”

Annoyance flickered through him and he smothered it before it could become detectable to their noses. “It’s fine, I’ve known her for years now. As much as I hate to admit it, she’s like an overbearing older sister now.” He patted her hand twice before stepping out of her range and towards the scowling woman on the other side of the door, not looking back as he crossed over onto the porch. “I’ll see you guys later.”

He heard his name mumbled on various tongues but couldn’t find it in him to care all that much when faced with the person who could help their goal come together. He’d worked with Jennifer multiple times in the past and although she had questionable morals, he couldn’t deny that she excelled in the work she did. This was just another stepping stone to get closure and that, more than anything, is what he’d wished for since he was sixteen. 

*

Stiles snorted when they pulled into an empty camping site and followed Jennifer out, stopping to send her a glare when she jumped onto the hood of his Jeep. “Watch it, she’s getting old.”

She rolled her eyes and gave it a light smack. “Please, if this thing is still running after what you’ve put it through, nothing I can do will stop it now.”

“How’d you even know that I was looking for you? I didn’t get a chance to text you.”

“Stiles, honey. I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere.” A crow let out a shriek in the distance and Stiles shuddered. He’d figured. 

“Right. Anyway, you know how I’ll be coming face to face with my family's murderer, I assume?”

“Of course.”

“Well there’s been a few complications that my group’s run into.” He pulled up the picture he took of the paper Macie had shown him and gave his phone to her, watching as her face darkened. “We think it’s a werewolf right now, but we don’t know the class or-”

“This isn’t no dog, Stiles. Look closely at the bark around the scratches.”

Frowning, he did as she asked and after a couple seconds, zeroed in on what she was talking about. It was a small detail, one that he and Macie had overlooked in how minuscule it seemed to be. But it was there, camouflaged into the color of the tree and the shadows. 

“A feather.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve only seen one thing with feathers and talons that deep.”

“Harpies.” They gave each other a look and Stiles let the weight of the situation settle on him. He tossed his head back and groaned. “I need a drink for this.” 

He got into the passenger side and ignored her snort as she followed suit, putting his phone on silent so he wouldn’t be distracted. He muttered to himself the entire time, Jennifer putting her two cents in every now and then as they debated what the best course of action would be. By the time they pulled into a bar a few cities over, they were both irritated and at a loss. 

Stiles slammed his empty glass onto the counter in front of him and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, pointing shakily at Jennifer who was sipping on her cocktail. “We need more people, ‘sats what we need.”

“More people would be more targets. Harpies are drawn to chaos and the more people there are, the more chaos is likely to happen.” The bartender gave them a look and promptly moved to the other side of the bar, but Stiles paid no mind to him as he slapped his jean clad thighs. 

“This is ridiculous. Do you know how hard I’ve been working on this? How many days I’ve spent staring at a screen, reading and rereading all the information that I was given just to make sure this thing actually gets pulled off? And now, what, there’s just some batshit crazy bird woman flying around looking to destroy my progress? Hell no, not on my watch!” Stiles stole her drink and downed it down in one go, slamming that on the counter as well before pulling out what was probably too many bills from his wallet and leaving them crumbled on the counter. 

“Where are we going now? It’s almost five in the morning and we’ve done nothing but complain, strategize, and then complain some more.”

“What else _can_ we do, Jen? We’re going to research the fuck out of harpies. You still have those books, right?”

“What do you take me for, Stiles? Of course I have them.” She stood up and flipped her hair over her shoulder as she held out a hand. “Come on, you owe me, anyway.”

“Owe- for what! This is the first time I’ve seen you in like four years!”

She gave him a look and grabbed his hand to pull him up, tapping her pointer finger against the pulse in his wrist. “Exactly. Anyway, it’s a fair trade off. I lend you my books, you lend me a bit of your… spark.”

He rolled his eyes and allowed her to drag him out of the bar, ignoring the catcalls and whistles from the nosy patrons as they were assaulted by the cold breeze. “No more than half an hour, got it? We have work to do that doesn’t involve me ‘lending you my spark’.”

Jennifer snickered at his tone and started the car and really, shouldn’t _he_ be driving? He missed being free. And unattached. And knowing what was going to happen next so he didn’t have to stress over it. Stiles was starting to realize he was missing a lot of things, and he pretended not to hear the little voice in his head that told him how his dad wouldn’t want this lifestyle for him. What did it matter, anyway? It’s not like he’s here anyway.

The trip to the most recent warehouse she was staying at passed by quickly and soon enough he was sitting on her bed and a needle in his arm, watching as she started to collect it in a blood bag. He leaned back on his other arm, his eyebrows coming together when he felt some kind of cool liquid under it. He looked behind him and shouted in disgust when he saw the tied condom. 

“Jennifer! What the fuck is this?” He seethed, pointing to the bed and moving as far away from it as he could. 

She barely glanced at him before continuing to adjust the bag, snickering at his outrage. “That, my dear, would be a used condom. I would’ve suspected you’d know what one is by your age, but-” 

“Jennifer,” He started dangerously. “Couldn’t you have cleaned up beforehand?” 

“I did, Stiles. You should be thankful that it’s only one you’re seeing, I do have projects planned after all.” 

“And you need to play around this much for them?” 

“You know as well as I do how important bodily fluids are to some things, whether it’s blood or something else. You’d know even more if you let me teach you, though.” 

He sighed at her pointed look, too exhausted and stressed to argue back. When the bag was almost full, she switched it out for a couple of vials and began humming lowly. Even though the notes had a darker, more ominous undertone, Stiles couldn’t help but close his eyes and relax. 

The last few months had been hell for him, both mentally and physically. He knew that he was getting more comfortable around the Hales and that he’d let a few things slip, whether it was information about himself or something he complained offhandedly to Peter or Derek about. He probably said things that he’d forgotten about but they took to heart, and he scolded himself for not being more upset about it. 

Then there had been that… situation that had happened a few days ago. He hadn’t felt the urge to jerk off in a while and yet one stolen glance at Derek working out and boom, he had regressed to being a sixteen year old. 

But there was more to it than that, the wolf had this uncanny talent of distracting him when he needed it the most, as if he had this hidden sixth sense under all that muscle and eyebrows. Peter was the same, but his methods were usually to point him to a book and while that worked for a while, Stiles was back to stressing in no time. With Derek, though… He wouldn’t be surprised if they bickered an entire day away, teasing jabs here and a little snark there. It was freeing, almost like... 

“Hey, Jen.” 

She made an inquisitive sound in her throat and screwed the vials shut before moving on to the needle in his arm. 

“I think I might like somebody. As in, I want to stay with them kind of li- ow!” He winced and grabbed his arm from where the needle slipped, sending a small spurt of blood onto his arm and shoulder before she handed him a tissue. He took it with a glare as she stared at him incredulously. “What the hell, I thought you were _good_ at this-” 

“You, the most antisocial, secretive, jaded person I’ve ever met in my life, likes somebody.” 

He scowled and held the paper to his arm as he regarded her. “What’s so hard to believe about that?” 

“Uh, I don’t know, Stiles, how about _everything_?” 

He stiffened and crossed his arms. “Why’s that? I’m human too, y’know.” 

“Yeah, but you’re some kind of robot mutant. Your life consists of researching and working and avoiding any kind of therapy that’s offered to you unless it’s shoved down your throat. You have more baggage on you than half of the world’s population, not to mention that I’ve never seen you-” She sighed when he stayed quiet, her eyes softening as she brought him into a tight hug. “Y’know, Stiles. I never thought I’d say this to you, and you aren’t there yet, but… I think happiness will suit you.” 

His throat closed up and he returned her hug, grateful for having her as a friend, even if she was an intolerably crazy bitch at times. 

* 

Talia prided herself on her control. She was infamous for her temperament, always the first to gather herself when something unexpected happened and the one to pull everyone together in the end. This time, however, she couldn’t do anything but watch her family fall apart with worry. If she were being honest, she wasn’t too far behind, holding together her facade by her will strength alone. 

Peter had been pacing and scenting the air since Michael had left and Derek… she didn’t even know where to start with him. He was snapping at everyone who tried to talk to him and had even growled at her before she flashed her eyes, mumbling a quick apology before going back to staring out the front window, as if it would magically teleport the man to their porch. She was worried, too, but she’d seen the way Michael’s eyes hardened when she asked him if he’d be alright and remembered that, at the end of the day, none of them knew Michael as much as they’d like to think. 

They had been quiet when he’d dropped the news of his family, as if it held no weight at all to him and she found the way he was so apathetic towards the matter amazing, as wrong as it sounded. Really though, what had gotten her the most was how lost the boy must’ve been after that. Losing everybody he’d grown up with in a matter of seconds and then thrust into this life of kill or be killed… she couldn’t imagine what he’d gone through and it made her want to hug him, hopefully as he let everything out.  
Laura was the first one to go to her room, mumbling about how they should all just go to bed and then interrogate him the following morning. Valerie followed soon after, tired from her shift, and soon enough it was just Peter, Derek, and herself. 

“I don’t like how he’s not back yet. It’s nearly one and he left with her this morning.” Peter grunted. “To make matters worse, she’s probably the most powerful druid there is, dark or otherwise.” 

The glass in Derek’s hand shattered and he stared at it before starting to pick up the pieces. Talia felt for him, she really did. Her son was never good at hiding his feelings, always wearing his heart on his sleeve even after what had happened during his high school years. He tried to compensate for that by acting tougher, meaner than he usually is. And it worked, up until Michael came into the picture. 

She huffed a soft laugh and shook her head when their eyes instantly landed on her. “It’s nothing,” she assured. “But I do have to go to bed. I have a meeting tomorrow and I don’t think they’ll take ‘I was busy waiting for a hitman to return to my house’ as an excuse.” 

She stood up and kissed Derek’s forehead when he began to protest, lingering for a second to give as much comfort as she could. “It’ll be okay.” She whispered. “He’ll come back.” 

“How do you know?” 

“He left his computers and work stuff, Derek. I don’t think he’s the kind of person to leave those alone when he knows they’re prying eyes around here.” 

“Right.” Talia sighed at his dubious tone and caught her brothers gaze, raising an eyebrow at him until he rolled his eyes and nodded. 

I know that you two are the most paranoid ones out of all of us, but keep in mind that Michael got himself this far. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself, you just have to have that mindset.” 

“He kills hunters, Talia. Humans. He’s probably never been up against something like a druid.” Peter sighed. 

She stayed quiet for a minute, waiting until they focused on her. “How do you know?” 

Nobody said anything else as she went back to her room. 

* 

Stiles stumbled out onto the pavement, waving his dismissal when Jennifer offered her hand. They stared at each other from across the car and his lips twitched at how they must look right now. 

“So we’re clear on the plan, right?” Jennifer asked. 

“Yeah. I’ll get Macie and Angelo up to speed and then we should be good. But you’re sure that you can pull off the whole…” He pointed to his hand and did a couple moves resembling punches and she crossed her arms, eyes hardening at the question. 

“Of course I can, Stiles. Especially if it’s for something this important.” 

He nodded and shook his hands to rid them of the nerves. “Right. Alright, then. I’ll let you know when I get the call so make sure that you’re free. Please.” He added as an afterthought. 

Her eyes widened before a grin lit up her face and she crossed the front of the Jeep to slap his shoulder. “Hey now, where’d that confidence of yours go? We’ll make sure that murderer gets what he deserves, I promise you that. ‘Kay?” 

“Yeah. Okay. We got this. No problemo, no sir.” 

“Stiles.” 

He groaned and rolled his shoulders back. “I know. I _do_ , everything’s going to turn out fine, whoever did it is going to be taken away and then I’ll get closure and… do something.” 

Her head tilted towards the house and she snorted with whatever she heard. 

“What is it?” 

“Nothing. One of my projects is trying to run off though, so I’ve got to go. Let me know when you need me, alright?” 

“I will. Be careful.” 

“Always.” She turned heel and walked into the surrounding trees after sending him a wink and he cracked his fingers before heading into the house. 

Stiles had just closed the door behind him when he was grabbed by the arm and shoved against the wall, a beta shifted Derek in front of him. His hand was already on the blade he’d hidden inside his hoodie and forced himself to release it, reminding his erratic heart that it was just Derek, that everything was alright. 

“Whoa there, buddy. Are we going back to this again? I thought we’d moved past it but looks like we still have-” 

“Michael,” he growled and _wow_ was it just him or was that hotter than it usually was? “Why do you smell like that?” 

He frowned. “Smell like what?” 

“Like sex and blood, Michael. Your blood and somebody else's… stuff on your hand, to be exact.” 

Stiles was about to protest because of where the conversation was going, but thought back on where he’d been and what Jennifer was doing and yeah, that made a lot more sense. 

Derek’s eyes flashed as if he’d seen him connect the dots and if anything, that seemed to make him angrier and before he knew what was happening, he was laying flat on his back on the kitchen table with angry lips on his own, prying them open. After the initial shock wore off, which admittedly took a while because out of everything he was expecting when he walked in, having an irritated, sexy werewolf tossing him around like he was nothing and initiating what was probably the best make out session he’d had in his _life_ wasn’t one of them. 

Instead of relaxing into it though, his own competitiveness kicked in and he wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck, pulling him closer as he tilted his head for a better angle. He felt hands tangle themselves into his hair and he moaned lowly as they tugged. Their tongues twisted and twirled around each other as if they couldn’t decide whether they wanted to part or get more entangled and with the force behind their lips Stiles knew that he’d have soreness the next day. 

They pulled apart, breathing against each other heavily as they glared at each other. Huffing under his breath, Stiles dragged Derek closer to him and was about to show him who was really the boss when a spoon clattered to the floor, effectively reminding Stiles exactly _where_ he was at the moment. 

He pulled back and pushed Derek away, jumping off of the table and using the wall for support as he pointed at the blushing wolf with wide eyes. “You... you have like five seconds to explain before I actually pass from mental exhaustion and-” 

“I like you!” Derek blurted, the redness spreading to the tips of his ears as he coughed and tried again. “Uh. I like you, Michael.” 

Stiles blinked and ran his hand through his disheveled hair, staring at him incredulously. “I think that’s a bit more than _like_ , Derek. I like Peter but you don’t see _me_ bending him over a table!” 

“... Sorry?” 

Stiles stared at the flustered man in front of him and wondered, briefly, how his life came to this before licking his lips. He stood up and stuffed his hands in his pockets, tilting his head towards his room after a second of them staring at one another. 

“Want to do it again? In private, this time?” 

He was back in Derek’s arms before he finished his sentence, his startled laughter echoing through the hallway. 

* 

Derek was awake long before Michael started to stir in his sleep. His grip tightened instinctively and he himself was almost embarrassed by the grin that spread on his face. He admitted that his… confession wasn’t anywhere close to how he’d wanted to do it, and he knew he’d berate himself for months, probably even years to come, but… but Michael was _his_ now. After they’d gotten over the initial heated excitement about what had happened, they talked a few things out while they cuddled and Derek couldn’t remember a time when he was happier. 

Michael rolled in his sleep and gripped his shirt, trying to pull himself closer than he already was until he grumbled and tossed a leg over his waist, caging him in. Derek froze before taking a steadying breath and relaxing, reminding himself that he could have this as he gently ran his hands through his hair. That seemed to relax him more than anything and soon enough soft snores had returned to fill the empty silence. 

He dozed off for another half hour or so, perfectly content with holding the man in his arms, when there was a series of quick but soft knocks on the door and Peter, Laura, and his mom stuck their heads in, their faces lighting up into knowing smiles as they took in the way the two of them were tangled with each other. 

“I figured you’d be in here,” His mom mumbled teasingly. “We saw Michael’s shoes by the door and since you weren’t in your room…” 

Laura peeked over at him from behind her shoulder and sent him a wicked grin and thumbs up. “You boned him, didn’t ya? You totally did, I just know-” 

Peter shoved her behind him and shook his head at her snickering before turning towards him again. “We also heard Michael laughing and smelled the… excitement between you two.” He informed him with a straight face and laughing eyes. “I am surprised to see that you guys are fully clothed, though.” 

Derek felt his face warm and scowled when they chuckled at his expense. Michael shifted in his arms and he felt a brief sense of loss before he let him go, watching as he rolled onto the other side of the bed. “ 

“Get up already, I want to know what happened. Besides, I’m about to make breakfast.” 

His stomach growled and he got out of the bed as quietly as he could, smiling at Michael and brushing his hair out of his face before following his family towards the kitchen. He wasn’t even out of the room before Laura was stuck to his side, talking about how proud she was that he’d finally grown up. 

Derek sighed and looked at the bed and Michael longingly as he was dragged away. 

* 

Stiles finished sending his text to Angelo and Macie, letting them know what he and Jennifer had discovered and that she was in on the plan and willing to help. Derek scrolled on his phone and grinned when he saw a picture of a kitten in a boot and really, how did Stiles ever find that smile of his annoying? 

“Did you see this?” Derek tilted his phone towards him and he locked his phone before scooting closer, laying his head on the wolf’s shoulder so he could get a good view of the screen. Once he stopped moving, he pressed play on the video and Stiles smirked at the wolf that fell into a pool, too busy staring at a fox that was sleeping in the distance. 

“That’d be you.” 

Derek raised his eyebrow, the challenge clear in his voice when he said, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He tilted his head back, snickering when he saw the man’s gaze drop to his neck. “I think you know what I mean.” 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were taunting me.” 

“Now why would I do that?” 

“Because you’re simultaneously the smartest and most reckless person I know.” 

“Aw, thanks for the compliment.” Stiles winked, snickering at the massive eye roll it got him even as the man tugged him closer into his side. He could feel his nerves coming back and distracted himself by pecking Derek’s neck, smiling when he shuddered and gave him a warning look. 

An alarm went off on Derek’s phone and at his questioning hum, he shook his head. “Dinner. I told mom I’d do it since she has a lot of work to do yet.” 

“You cook?” 

Derek raised an eyebrow at him and crossed his arms. “You don’t?” 

Stiles’ smirk fell off his face, his mood souring with memories of cooking for his dad and friends at their monthly get together. How Scott would offer his help and how he’d have to send him away in less than five minutes before he burned the place down while looking at Kira. Lydia would help him in the kitchen and they’d talk about their classes and the trips they were planning before Jackson would stroll in like he owned the place and accuse him of flirting. Then his dad would walk in and… and tell them to calm down before ruffling his hair and winking at him as he walked out with another beer. 

“-chael? Michael?” His head snapped up and he nearly flinched when he saw Peter and Derek frowning in front of him, concern etched into their faces. “Are you okay? You kind of zoned out there…” 

“Uh, yeah.” He coughed. “Yeah, I’m good. But to answer your question, I haven’t touched a stove since I was sixteen.” 

Derek eyed him worriedly. “Right.” Shaking his head, he held out his hand and pulled him up, dragging him off to the kitchen before he could protest. “You don’t have to do anything but keep me company. I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that though, considering that big mouth of yours.” 

Stiles squawked, incredibly offended but also unable to deny that. “I-” 

The man tugged him towards the kitchen before he could argue and he must’ve done something, because right when he felt the start of his anxiety settle in his stomach, Derek let go of his hand and put a pepper shaker in his palm. Stiles stared at it, confused out of his mind. 

“What is that?” 

“Uh… pepper?” 

Derek gave him a look. “Michael. C’mon, what _is_ it?” 

“Are we really going to discuss what pepper is made out of? Right now?” 

“Just answer it.” 

“It’s a spice.” 

“Exactly.” 

Stiles was ready to throw his hands up but refrained for the sole facet that he didn’t want Talia to be upset when she saw pepper all over her floor instead of a meal. “Okay? And? It’s just a spice.” 

“That we’re going to use to cook.” 

“That’s a given, yes.” 

“So you should be grateful that you’re in the presence of it.” 

“Derek,” he started. “Are you okay? Did you not sleep last night?” 

“People went to war over spices, you know.” Derek occupied himself with pulling out the other ingredients, pretending not to hear his sister laughing her ass off in the other room and asking him what kind of distraction method he was going for. He was trying, okay? 

The first thing that he saw was the damn pepper and even if his admittedly bad plan didn’t work like he hoped it did, at least he’d forget that awful anxious aroma that fell from his crush turned boyfriend. Even though it lasted less than a second, it was the first time Michael had made a mistake like that and he’d much rather it be because he was startled into laughing or maybe a little mirthful when they teamed up to make fun of Peter or Laura. 

“You…” Michael’s voice brought him back to the present and out of his head and he made sure his face didn’t feel warm before looking over his shoulder, trying and failing at a suave look. 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re really asking me to have a conversation on spice wars?” Michael’s face was carefully blank and even though Derek had gotten used to not smelling his emotions to guide the conversation along, it didn’t mean he liked it. 

Michael shook his head with a small chuckle, half disbelieving and half amused. “Right,” he jumped onto the counter to his left, startling him enough to make him jump but not to drop the pans he was carrying, thankfully. He glanced up just as the man sat on his hands and started to swing his legs back and forth leisurely as if he was the most peaceful man alive. Derek was simultaneously in awe of and terrified of his acting skills. “Did you know that during the Roman Empire they used to pay their soldiers using salt?” 

Derek sent a quick thanks to whoever was listening to him from above and shook his head after a minute. “No, I didn’t.” 

“Well, they did. They also used to say ‘worth his salt’ as like, how much they would pay them. They were basically like, one of the most powerful spice trading countries. But that was before Venice beat everyone and was like, _the_ spice god of the world. So Rome was forced to pay these absurd taxes for spice.” 

He listened to him rant as he cooked, occasionally holding up a fork with something for him to taste and sticking out his chest proudly when Michael groaned and held his thumb up in response. Warmth surged through him because he could do this now, he could be himself with Michael and talk and hold him to his heart's extent. Because they were dating now, they were boyfriends. 

He grinned broadly down at the chicken he was slicing for fajitas. Boyfriend. It wasn’t his first, but he never really counted the fleeting kiss and five seconds of hand holding afterwards that had happened during his freshman year. They were more like best friends who were using each other to experiment rather than actually liking the other. 

Michael was different, though. He already knew about the supernatural and was able to take care of himself, even if it made him stubborn to the point he wanted to pull his hair out and stupidly independent. Still, he wouldn’t trade it for the world, the possibility that Michael could be it for him. He knew he was probably getting ahead of himself, but it was far too easy for him to imagine a future with Michael. They might even have kids, he was sure that would make his mom happy. 

He frowned down at the sizzling chicken as he contemplated that. Michael would probably be the lenient father, maybe _too_ lenient at times. He wasn’t great at being stern, but he was sure that if it came to his family’s health and happiness, he’d be willing to do anything, especially since- 

Wait. 

What was he thinking? They hadn’t even been dating for a week and here he was planning out the rest of their lives together. A fork entered his line of sight and before he could understand what had happened, Michael had popped a small piece of chicken into his mouth, humming around in delight as he manhandled his hand in the air and gave him a high five. 

“Tastes good, Derek.” 

“It would taste better if you waited for the tortillas and vegetables to be done.” 

“Those are small details in the big picture.” 

“Michael, that’s literally what makes it a fajita and not just chicken.” 

He rolled his eyes and pointed at him with his fork. “Yeah, but _chicken_ is in front of it, therefore it’s the main thing.” 

“Of course it is. It’s the meat.” 

“Exactly.” 

Derek stared at him, unable to piece together what just happened. “What?” 

Michael smirked and gave a quick kiss to his cheek before turning around. “Nothing! I have to read my email, I’ll be right back!” 

Derek grumbled under his breath, which turned into a stuttered attempt of an explanation when he saw his parents amused gazes. His father cocked an eyebrow and smirked when scowled, but grimaced when his mom nudged him pointedly. 

“I’m glad that you’re happy, Der.” She told him warmly. 

He muttered a short ‘thanks’ and went back to cooking, a small smile still stubbornly loitering on his face. 

* 

Stiles was getting restless. Jennifer had told him that the special blades they needed to kill the harpy were a no go, the person she was supposed to get it from had been killed and robbed. It pissed him off, but he couldn’t say anything since he’d done the same thing more than he cared to admit or think about. Still, it put them back at square one and he was getting sick of running in circles. 

The Hales were clueing in on it too, he could feel the way they looked at him more often and for a longer amount of time, almost as if they were waiting for him to snap. To be fair, though, he wasn’t that far from it. Angelo was sure to call him any day now and he would have to tell him that he was at a loss for what was potentially their biggest problem. 

Derek nudged him, asking if he was okay in a hushed whisper even though everybody knew that it was heard clearly to everyone. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Right. Anyway what did you think of the movie? Laura tried asking a couple times but you zoned out.” 

The movie. A supernatural thriller that had wizards at war with a clan of fae. “It was okay. I mean, I wasn’t a fan of the ending because the wizards had more people and the fae just- Wait.” He sat straighter and thought about it. It was just a movie, sure, but the events were similar to what he was about to go through. A small group of fae and malicious wizards. Outnumbered and at a loss, what was it that one guy said then? Control the nature of the soul? Look into the mind to find the answer? No, no. _Control the mind, control the body_ that’s it. 

He jerked up and swooped to give his boyfriend a tight hug and kiss. “You’re a genius, Sourwolf, did I tell you that?” He pulled out his phone as quickly as he could, grin growing as he saw Jennifer already calling. “I have to talk to a colleague, don’t wait up.” 

* 

Like he suspected, Angelo got into contact with him four days later. Along with Macie. And Jennifer, though he was assuming she forced herself into the equation to retrieve him. Yeah, that’s right. They came to pick him up. 

“Michael. Are you going to let us in while you grab your stuff?” Angelo asked. His voice was as stoic as usual and his face gave nothing away but Stiles knew him well enough to hear the subtle traces of mirth in his tone. 

“It’s not exactly my house to decide that.” He responded curtly. 

His lips twitched ever so slightly and he nodded. “I suppose that’s true, yes.” His gaze landed on his foot, his expression growing more serious. “I trust that it healed correctly?” 

“Of course. Remind me never to doubt your orthopedic skills again.” He could feel the Hales behind him in an instant and gave his boss a loaded glance before they even opened their mouths. 

“You’re the lowlife who did that to him?” Derek snarled. Angelo flashed his eyes in warning and he winced when he caught sight of the crimson orbs before moving to put himself between the two of them. Talia grabbed his arm and pulled him back, moving in front of both of them and really, this was all so much more dramatic than it needed to be. 

“You’re his boss, I’m assuming?” Talia asked, her posture growing more hostile when she scented another wolf in her territory and unannounced at that. 

“Sometimes. I see myself as more of a father figure, but I suppose that’s up for interpretation.” 

“And it’s normal for a father to break their son’s bones?” Peter growled, remembering the days that Michael had wandered around lifelessly. 

Angelo stuffed his hands in his pockets as he stared Peter down. “When it comes to his health, a father would do anything.” 

“And what was so problematic that you had to go to those measures?” Talia demanded. 

Angelo’s eyes hardened. “That’s none of your concern. Michael, forget about your things. We’ll get whatever you need before we head out but we’re on too tight of a schedule.” 

Stiles’ mouth twisted as he looked back towards the room. The only thing he kept on him at all times were his cell phones and blades, but everything else, including the documents and laptops, were still there. “But the comput-” 

“Already taken care of. I had our IT office do their thing. And the documents won’t be important after today, I doubt the Hales will turn you into the police.” 

Talia clenched her teeth at the implications. “Of course not.” 

“Good. Michael, let’s go.” 

Stiles nodded and hesitated before turning and dragging Derek into what was probably a too deep kiss. The wolf tried to hold him but a quick snap of Jennifer’s fingers had him releasing his hold in no time. 

“Michael-” He tried imploringly. 

“I’ll see you around, Derek. Try not to forget me, ‘kay?” He spoke to the group at large for the latter sentence and nodded to them before taking a step towards the door. Jennifer was leading Macie to the car, talking about where she learned to do that and he nearly rolled his eyes at how fast they had become friends. 

Just as Angelo turned around, Peter blocked the doorway and Stiles was gifted the sight of his back. He growled when the other man turned around and Angelo mumbled an annoyed curse before staring at him from over Peter’s shoulder. 

“You have less than a minute before I send Jennifer out again.” 

“Noted.” He said dryly. Shaking his head, he gripped Peter’s arm and tugged it away from the frame, refusing to step away even when he was snarled at. “Listen to me, Peter. Remember that time I said that you’d owe me a favor? And how I said that you wouldn’t like it? Well, this is it.” He waved his hand towards the door and how he was blocking it. “It’s time you cash it in and let me leave.” 

“That man broke your foot and didn’t call to check on you once.” 

“I know.” 

“He drugged you and took away your freedom.” 

“I was there.” 

“So why are you going with him!” Peter roared. The rest of them stayed silent and he let loose a shaky breath before steeling his nerves. 

“I already lost one father, Peter. He’s the closest thing to that I have left and I’m not willing to lose him, too. Especially with everything he’s done for me. I owe him my life.”

Growling lowly, he slammed his fist into the drywall and stalked off without another glance. Stiles barely heard the rumbled ‘You better come back’ and decided that pretending he didn’t was a better alternative than coming up with an answer that satisfied everybody.

He left the Hale house empty handed, feeling as if the world was placing its weight on his shoulders the closer he got to the parked car. He would come back, he decided. He’d come back once he settled all of his baggage and could be the man who was good enough to date Derek and associate with the Hales. 

He’d come back after he found closure. That was a promise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... a pretty decent time skip, some feelings that were exposed and a lead up into the next chapter. You guys wouldn't believe how much I rewrote this chapter! lol, all things considered I had a really fun time and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you for your patience, too! Finals week equals crunch time along with a bunch of other stuff so I really do appreciate you all! The next chapter will be out sooner than this one, too so look forward to some action next time!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has a panic attack in this chapter and I tried not to make it too bad but I marked it with three stars (***) when it starts and when it ends in case you want to skip it. I'll also put a small summary describing what caused it in the end notes if you're interested. Other than that, enjoy!

Stiles tapped his fingers against the gun Angelo had given him. He was the best shooter out of Macie and himself, so he would be going for the armed hunters while Macie took out the others. They had decided that Jennifer would be going on her own to find the harpy before it found them. He wasn’t too sure at first, because what if it was already there? They’d be screwed without Jennifer’s magic. However, she was adamant that she figured out where the thing was hiding and said she’d be back in time for the grand finale. 

Stiles was assuming that was when he faced the person who took everything from him.

Angelo sighed over the phone and Stiles waited as patiently as he could for the man to say something. They’d gone over the plan more times than he thought was necessary and had discussed what steps to take if something were to go off the deep end. Really, he didn’t know what else there was to say. Macie groaned in annoyance as her seat squeaked again and he dug into his bag to pull out some oil to toss to her. He was going to use it to fix his jeep, but alas he didn’t get the chance before he was picked up.

“How confident are you in the strategies you’ve come up with?” Angelo finally asked.

Stiles bit his lip and glanced at his friends. The other people that were supposed to help them had already done their part in taking out the people who had yet to fly to the arranged meeting spot, so it had been the three of them and the plane’s pilot for almost a day now. 

“We won’t leave behind survivors, if that’s what you’re asking.” Jennifer told him confidently. 

“Excellent. I see that you’re going to land soon, so I’ll let you go.”

“Great,” Stiles reached for the phone and sighed when his name was called. “What is it?”

“Take me off speaker. I want to talk to you privately.” 

Macie’s eyebrows furrowed but she didn’t say anything, instead taking Jennifer’s arm and leading her to the back of their private plane. He looked skyward while he took the phone off speaker and put it to his ear. “Yeah?”

“How’s your mental state?” 

Stiles faltered and nearly dropped the phone. He swallowed before answering, mustering up all the smugness he could. “I’ve done this hundreds of times before, why the questions now?”

“Because you weren’t going to meet the person whose actions have been torturing you for almost five years now. You could get yourself killed if you’re in the wrong headspace Stiles, you know this. Without your training you’d be useless. Remember that.”

“I know. Was that it?”

Angelo paused. “Back at the Hale house, you said that you owed your life to me.”

He tapped his foot on the carpet uncertainty. “Yeah? But we both knew that already so-”

“If that’s true,” he interrupted roughly. “Then you make damn sure you come back alive, you hear me? No getting wrapped up in your thoughts, no deciding that some idea you’ve come up with in a second is better than the plan that all of us came up with together over the last three months, and no trying to be the hero and sacrificing yourself, got it? I know you’re already starting to get anxious and your thoughts are probably through the roof right now, but remember what the goal here is. All you need to focus on is taking care of the hunters and all parties who associate with them.”

“...You’re asking me to ignore the fact that I’m about to see the person who killed my father and all of my friends. You’re asking me to forget that I’ll be in the same place as that person who took away my childhood family. Sorry, but I can’t do that.”

He was about to hang up, but Angelo’s warning growl had him sighing as he waited a second longer. “Fine, Stiles. Say you do everything that I warned you about and you end up getting yourself killed. What do you expect me to say to the Hales, huh? Or that man that you didn’t hesitate to kiss in front of me? That was your way of saying that you’re moving on, right?”

“I-”

“I don’t know whether moving on for you is joining your father and friends, wherever they may be, or if it’s joining the Hales. Either way you owe them an explanation, more so since you’re recognized as pack to them. I’m not going to do your dirty work for you, I never did before and I won’t start now just because you’re thinking and acting like a coward.”

“Excuse me?” Stiles retorted dangerously. “I love you like a second father, Angelo, but I don’t care for nor do I have time for your superiority complex. You may have taken me off the streets and given me a way of life to support myself, but never once did you ask if it was what I wanted. You know as well as I do that you were in deep shit when we met and the whole purpose of saving me was so you could train and teach me how _you_ saw fit. If you never met me, where would you be right now? Think on that while I go and do what you’re scared to, like the _coward_ I am.” He hung up the phone and tossed it onto the seat behind him, staring down at the circled blueprints in front of him.

He could feel Macie’s eyes on him the entire time they got off the plane and met up with their ‘guide’, who in all actuality was the person who’d sneak them into the banquet in disguise of the catering service. Jennifer had disappeared the minute she got off the plane and Stiles managed to avoid the elephant Macie was dying to talk about until they were told by their guide to get in the back of the truck and put on the bakeries uniform in case they got searched. 

So there they were, holding onto the flimsy handles on each side of the truck and sitting on wooden boxes that slid this way and that with every turn the vehicle took. Macie snorted when he almost lost his balance after a sharp turn and he turned to glare at her as he readjusted himself. “What’re you laughing at?”

“Nothing. It’s just, y’know.” She waved her hand vaguely and her smile lost the hardened edge at the corners. “It reminds me of old times a bit, don’t you think? The helicopter we took to Norway and the bunker we were stuck in ‘cause of that tornado in Texas.” She laughed lightly and looked at the roof of the truck. “I think the time we were snowed in was the best, though. I remember that like it was yesterday. You were so anxious to do something with yourself and got so angry when we woke up and the snow was blocking the door. Remember how you tried to use that big ass spoon as a shovel to get out from the window?”

Stiles blushed and looked away. “We don’t talk about that.”

“I think that’s when I really thought of you as my partner.” She went on as if he hadn’t said anything and his throat narrowed as he listened to her. “There was this one time where you got so close to leaving but then you noticed that I couldn’t go out because I forgot my damn jacket. I would’ve died from hypothermia for sure. I told you to go ahead and that I’d catch up but then you said-”

“I can’t lose another friend, we both go together or we both tell Angelo that it couldn’t be done.” He recited the words from over four years ago and the silence was almost foreboding as neither of them spoke up.

Finally, Macie sighed and moved to sit on the floor next to him, holding onto his leg to support herself while she rested her head in his lap. His hand moved on autopilot and soon enough he was running his hands through her hair like he used to do with Lydia or Kira when they were too stressed with school and Scott, respectively. 

“You found what you were looking for, huh?”

“Yeah… I think I did.”

“So… you’re done?”

Stiles sighed. That was the question, wasn’t it? He’d been living this lifestyle and bonding with the same people for over four years now, there was no way he could just cut them off. They were like family now, no matter how annoying and sadistic they may be. They were comfort and familiarity, routine and stability.

The Hales, however, were chaotic and fun and innocent where he was focused and anxious and full of baggage. They were the complete opposite of him and everything he tried to avoid because he knew that they’d be able to see through him. And they did. It had taken them a substantially shorter amount of time than he’d predicted for them to worm their way under his skin and now that they were there… he didn’t know what to do with them. Derek was a whole different story himself and it seemed like the more he chose to look at the bigger picture, the more choices he had.

Stiles wasn’t good at making choices. And this one, deciding between comfort and familiarity and the overwhelming potential of family and what _could be_ were tearing him apart. 

Macie nudged his leg and he forced himself to remember how his vocal cords worked. “I… I don’t know yet. There’s no way I could make a decision that quickly, especially something as important as this.”

“Yeah.” She mumbled. 

“But,” he said lowly. It seemed like a criminal offense to talk any louder than that. “I am going to take a break. I want to get my head straight before going back to the Hales and Derek. I want to show them that I’m not just some wandering henchman or something, y’know? That whole love yourself first thing, I’m going to need to do that before I go back, sort myself out I mean.”

Macie stared ahead of them and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was somewhat wistful in it’s appearance. “A break, huh?”

*

“Four on my right, three more behind them.” Stiles mumbled. Macie gave a short nod and without wasting another second they darted out from behind the entrance pillar. Stiles shot the first man in the chest, watching apathetically as he dropped to the ground in a pitiful heap. Macie stuck to the walls and headed towards the back and he made sure to keep the attention on himself to give her as much time as he could. 

He heard footsteps from behind him and ducked just in time for a fist to fly over his head. The woman behind him drew her elbow back and down, but he managed to pull out his blade and cut her hamstring while he rolled out of the way. 

“You bastard!” She screamed. 

Stiles groaned when three men heard her and changed their direction to run towards him. “Now look what you’ve done,” He mumbled, placing his hands on either side of her neck as he held eye contact with the men ahead, monitoring their hands that enveloped guns. “You’ve just made this more difficult than it needed to be.”

Her eyes widened when he tightened his grip and she let out a pained yelp before he swiftly snapped her neck, letting her body fall to his side as he drew out the gun in his left hand. They all had their guns drawn out but refrained from shooting him. Frowning, he chanced a glance behind him, his confusion growing when nothing was there.

“Amateurs,” He remembered. “You’re nothing more than a man who just learned how to hold a gun, let alone use it.”

The first one glared at him and pulled the trigger, scowling when the bullet missed him. Stiles smirked and shook his foot so the woman’s arm slid off of it, strolling over to them confidently. “Allow me to demonstrate for you what a proper shot looks like.”

He aimed his gun and two back to back shots went off, the bodies on either side of the man in front crashing onto the tiles. His footsteps faltered and his arm shook slightly as he put on a front and pointed it at Stiles’ chest, which, really, he didn’t have the time for. This was the day he’d get his questions from all those years ago answered and he wasn’t about to let some lowlife take that opportunity from him. He pulled the trigger with a scoff and walked past the pile of bodies he’d left behind him, meeting up with Macie at the end of the hall. 

There was a large double door there that was bracketed by large pillars on either side and Stiles gestured to Macie. Eyeing each other for a second, he took a deep breath and took a step. Macie would be right behind him, ready to run along the walls while the enemy was distracted and take them by surprise from the back. 

The minute they opened the banquet door, a quick succession of shots went off. Stiles moved aside on pure muscle memory, throwing himself to the other side of the door and aimed his gun while he gripped his dagger tighter. The door slammed shut and he looked to his right with wide eyes, a soft breath of relief escaping him when he saw that Macie was fine. 

“You’re a better shot than me, aim at their legs and I’ll try to get their upper body since it’s a bigger target that I’ll have.” She whispered, pulling out a pistol from her thigh strap. 

“We have to get up though, they’ll be expecting us to be on the ground. Hopefully they’ll think they got some shots in so we can take them off guard that way. Unless…” He scanned the area as fast as he could, taking note of the crate of wine glasses in the corner and the half empty container of oil. He felt for his flask and licked his lips before getting her attention, although it seemed that it never left him. “We can make a Molotov cocktail, we’ve got all the things we need for it. You still carry that lighter and lube I gave you for your seat on the plane, right? The oil based one?”

“Yeah, but… won’t they be out here by then? As it is we’ve been here for a solid minute and somebody must have told them that we’re here since they were ready for us, Stiles.”  
“Which is why I’ll hold them off while you make it. You remember how, yeah?” He smirked at her as he tossed his flask, watching as she ran to the crate after giving him a determined nod. A footstep, some muttered words, then another person joining the first before Stiles heard the erratic stomping of the hunters heading towards the door. 

Cursing under his breath, he stood up as fast as he could and hid behind the pillar. He listened for the people to stop before he rounded the stone and shot the first two people he saw, one in the hip and the other in the hand that was holding his gun. The last one looked around frantically and Stiles nearly face palmed when he saw Macie trying to sneak in, Molotov cocktail in hand.

‘What are you doing?’ he mouthed. 

She shook her head and shot the last one that was standing outside of the doors before responding. “It’ll be faster to just open it and slide the bottle in.”

He nodded and moved back behind the pillar. “Don’t get yourself killed.”

“Psh, don’t forget who helped teach you, brat.”

After their little contraption went off, the pace of their operation picked up at an exceptional rate. Stiles was immersed into the chaos head on, and after three months of recovering he was grateful for how his body had learned how to move on it’s own. He’d lost count of how many fists and kicks he’d dodged, how many bullets had slipped by his ear a second late. He knew he’d been hit, but he didn’t know where exactly, his adrenaline too high for him to comprehend the pain. It couldn’t be that bad, though. He was sure he’d be feeling it if it were deep so it was probably a light scratch.

Either way, the bitter scent of iron wasn’t doing him any favors. Macie had taken out a little less than half of their group and was helping him out with the ones left over, glancing back at him before she killed them. Stiles was growing frustrated, extremely so, actually. He had been told that his family’s murderer would be here and yet he hasn’t seen his face once. 

Throwing his elbow back roughly, he took a deep breath to calm himself while the woman behind him fell. This was no time to get ahead of himself. He opened the -hopefully- last door and was relieved when it was just two people, one of which was the man he’d been looking forward to finding. 

His focus narrowed until he was only registering the man in front of him, Macie and the other man forgotten. There was a tense silence where everybody was just staring at one another - and then the man who held the responsibility of killing everything Stiles grew up with smirked at him. 

Stiles snapped. 

The man’s eyes widened as Stiles charged at him and in less than a minute the two of them were exchanging blows. He knew he had questions to ask but right now, more than anything, he wanted the man to _pay_. He heard a gunshot and saw the other man fall to the side of them and had a brief moment of thinking how anticlimactic Macie made it, but then he’d realized the sense of privacy she was trying to give him as the large doors slammed behind her. 

The man rammed the butt of his gun into Stiles’ shoulder and he hissed as the sudden flash of pain brought him to his knees. “You,” the man gasped. “You really don’t give up, huh?”

Stiles nearly laughed as he rose to his feet again, his adrenaline dying out as he watched his target pant against the wall, his hands on his knees and regarding him carefully. “I can’t think of one reason why I wouldn’t want to get vengeance.” 

“Vengeance? What’re ya talking about?” 

“I’m talking about how you killed six innocent teenagers and a sheriff from a small town in California.” Stiles reloaded his gun and watched as the man’s eyebrows furrowed before recognition lit up his features, followed by his face growing pale and his legs giving out on him. He glanced towards the exit and Stiles took that as his hint to continue. “I take it you remember now?”

“You… the little house on the corner?”

“Bingo.” 

“I thought I’d-”

Stiles cocked the gun and aimed it at him steadily, a malicious smirk settling on his face as he stared down at him. “I have questions to ask you and every time I don’t like what I hear, you get shot. It’s a pretty simple system I decided on, so you should have no problem keeping up. Now, first thing’s first. Why was the sheriff targeted? You people had a whole town to choose from, so why us?”

The man scoffed and settled against the wall, as if he were already bored with the conversation. “That’s what you start off with? Psh, what’d I expect from a brat.” He shrugged and smirked back up at him. “That man was known to go after cases that had already been dropped. If we didn’t get rid of him first then we’d have a whole bunch of problems later.”

“So you killed him.”

“Hopefully. I couldn’t really aim right since I was watchin’ the street. I’m a law abiding citizen, after-” His voice cut off into a shrill scream and he stared wide eyed at the hole an inch away from his ear. 

“Quiet.” Stiles demanded. He knew that he was shaking, could see the light tremors spreading to his gun as he tried to pull himself together. Everything that had happened, everything that he’d gone through was just because of a lie that Kate had told? This man couldn’t have been a trained hunter, he doubted he even knew about the supernatural with the way he was staring at him as if _he_ were a monster. 

“What would you get from it? You had no idea what business you were getting yourself into nor what your work would entail. Why risk it?”

“My girl broke it off with me after finding me with her cousin. A couple lawsuits later I had no house, no family, no job. What’d I have to lose? And really, what she was describing to me didn’t sound so bad. Keeping track of numbers all day? Even I could do that.”

Stiles knew he wouldn’t be getting much else out of him. He didn’t notice it before, but now that the man was staying still, he could tell how his eyes were bloodshot and how his body seemed to be swaying jerkily. He sighed heavily and examined his gun while he asked his last question. 

“Hah? What was that?”

“I asked if you were satisfied, knowing that the son of the sheriff is standing in front of you right now, knowing that you took away his entire life and traumatized everybody in that small town that you never looked back at. Are you happy with yourself now? Did you give yourself a pat on the back yet?”

“Wait, the son of-” He got to his legs shakily and pointed at him, a drunken grin crossing his face as he took him in. “You’re the one that was wearing the Batman shirt, yeah? The one who was getting yelled at by the sexy redhead? I have to thank you, actually. If it weren’t for you having that idea to throw that party I wouldn’t have had such a good opportunity for me to take him out. So thanks kid, you helped me kill your father. And I don’t know what you’re planning for your ‘vengeance’ as you put it, but you won’t kill me,” The man said confidently. “Y’know, killing a killer only makes another killer and all that. What would daddy dearest think, his only son going around murdering people. Really, if you think about it, your sentence is worse than mine is.”

Stiles stiffened and the last string that was holding his control snapped. He shot the man's foot, unfazed when he collapsed with a pained yell.

“Lydia Martin.” He shot the other one.

“Jackson Whittemore.” He moved along the man’s body as he recalled his friend’s names, ignoring the stinging of his eyes and the burning sensation along his sinuses as he did so. He shot both of his shoulders and aimed just a hair above his skull.

“Scott McCall. Sheriff John Stilinski.” He took a shaky breath and felt a tear slip as he shot the last bullet. 

“Mieczysław Stilinski.”

*

It wasn’t until they were back in the small jet Angelo had sent for them that Macie said anything. Stiles’ mind was still humming and his skin felt way too tight for the thoughts and emotions that he was sure it would just crack under the pressure any time now. 

“I’m surprised you left him alive.” Macie mused softly, her tone gentle. 

Stiles shrugged and crossed his arms, glancing out the window to the ocean beneath them. “I wouldn’t say I left him alive. I gave him to Jennifer and knowing her, she’ll do things to him that are worse than I ever could have.”

“I just thought that you for sure would have killed him. I mean, you’ve been after him since you were eighteen.”

“I’m aware.”

She hesitated before scooting closer to him so that their thighs were touching, but didn’t initiate any other contact. “Why’d you say your name, too?”

“Because he killed everything that made me myself back then. He took away what I stood for and what I was looking forward to. I’m just Stiles now, a fragment of a name that used to mean everything but hardly means anything.”

Her lips twisted into a sad frown, her head resting on his shoulder. “You know you can just...leave, right? Put all this behind you? I know you said you wanted to take a break, but…”

Stiles shook his head and threw caution to the wind when his mind started to go blank, embracing it wholeheartedly instead of trying to fight it like he usually would. What was the point? “I owe Angelo. I can’t just quit, that’s not how this works.”

He turned his back to her when she opened her mouth, hoping that she would get the message. Of course, he should’ve known better because if there was one thing that she had to have, it was always the last word. 

“He owes you too, y’know.”

He waited until she huffed and pulled out her laptop to set up Netflix before he swallowed heavily and squeezed his eyes shut. He would have all the time to cry later but right now, he had to endure the flight back. 

That’s all he had to do and it paled in comparison to the other things he’d already done, so why, why was it so damn _hard_ to keep his tears at bay?

*

Stiles didn’t bother getting into the cab sent by Angelo, but he managed to give Macie a twitch of his lips as he sent her off. They’d done it, after all. Completed another mission together and kept one another alive. It was something they’d usually celebrate and yet Stiles couldn’t think of anything he’d hate to do more than that. 

“You want to crash at my place?” Jennifer offered. “I already set up that worthless man somewhere else, so you won’t be seeing him ever again.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” 

A soft shoulder bump later and she was gone, too. Stiles looked around the vacant parking lot and ran his hand through his hair with a low groan. He was completely lost to where the first cab had taken them but knowing Angelo, it would be somewhere that had one of the, if not _the_ lowest population in the state. 

Just as he started to walk towards the street, a blue glint caught his eye and he looked back. There, under what was probably the only street light in the proximity, was his beloved Jeep. He turned tail and stumbled towards it, half from disbelief and half from exhaustion. 

Stiles picked up the pristine folded piece of paper that was under the windshield wiper and unfolded it with shaky fingers. _I had somebody deliver your car for you and thought about what you said. I’ll be in touch. -A_

***

He managed to pry open the backseat before his legs gave out and he was faintly aware that he landed on the floor of the Jeep between the seats rather than on the seat itself. He couldn’t bring himself to care though, not when his hands were trembling and his heart was beating at a pace where he couldn’t tell one pulse from another, not when his lungs couldn’t expand and he was left gasping for air like a damn fish out of water. 

Then the tears came and he didn’t know what to think about anymore. The man’s words came back to mind and he was filled with ‘what ifs’. What if he hadn’t planned the party? What if he moved out of the way or pushed his dad aside or saw the fucking car coming? How blind was he, not to see a car or hear the gunshots that had started four houses down. What if he had gotten over himself for once in his life and looked away from his selfish desires, had looked back at the street instead of thinking to himself how good Lydia was at makeup?

Lydia. 

Stiles flailed, reaching for his phone that was in his pocket and crying harder when it slipped from his grasp. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and sniffed, trying to pull himself together while he picked up his phone and pulled up the dial pad. He wiped away his tears and tried his best to ignore the voice in his head that was screaming at him that she was dead, that they were all dead and it was his fault. 

His breath hitched when the ringing stopped, only to come back at full force when he heard her voice telling him to call back later. 

“Lydia,” He started hoarsely. “He said that I killed him. Said that I helped them figure out where we were ‘cause I planned the party at our house. I should’ve listened to you and agreed to have it at that park, there would’ve been more people and I could’ve done more than just call the police and run. I’m sorry that I wasn’t smarter, that I choked up and ran instead of stayed and went to everybody’s funeral. I’m sorry that you guys died because of my selfishness, it should’ve been me instead of-instead of you,” he stuttered. “And I really miss you, Lyds. I miss you and Scott and Kira and Danny, Hell I even miss Jackson! I really miss my dad, too. I really miss him, Lyds and I don’t know what to do anymore ‘cause every time I wake up I always think that I shouldn’t have been able to when you guys-”

The voicemail ended and Stiles let the phone slip to the floor as he bowed his head and sobbed into his arms. Really, what was the point anymore? He’d done what he’s been trying to do since he graduated and now that his one goal was done, he had nothing left.

***

Derek’s face popped into his mind, and then Peter and Devin, Valerie and Talia and Laura. The Hales were still alive and he knew that if there was anything that was left for him in this world, he would find it with them. 

He had lost count of how much time had passed and he’d slept at odd intervals between multiple panic attacks. He was sure that he spent at least half of the following day in his car at least and had enough common sense to pull up his GPS. He didn’t know what he would do when he got to the Hale house, but everything was better when you were in a place you were familiar with. At least he hoped it would be, anyway.

*

Talia woke up the following morning expecting what had become their usual routine. Derek and Peter would wake up and do a quick run to see if they could smell Michael and then after they found nothing they would come back sulking and eat their breakfast half heartedly. Afterwards they would continue working on translating the final pieces of the journal and pretend that they didn’t perk up whenever they heard a car. 

As much as she hated to say it, she wasn’t doing any better. It didn’t help that she felt her family's emotions along with her own. Some nights, when Derek would be falling over himself with worry, she would have to take him aside and try her best to calm him down with assuring words that she hoped and prayed weren’t wrong. 

She truly believed Michael would come back. She just didn’t know what his condition would be when he did. 

So when she woke up to prepare breakfast the following morning, she had no idea what to think when she saw a jeep that all but radiated all the negative emotions she could think of. Most worrying of all though, was the fact that Michael’s scent was smothered in it. 

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she put her coffee on the counter and cautiously made her way down the hall where Michael’s room had sat unoccupied for the last week. As soon as she turned the corner, she stumbled and put a hand on the wall for support. Talia had no idea how the others had slept this long, for the grief and guilt were nearly suffocating her and she hadn’t even reached the door!

“Peter,” She called through the hand that was covering her nose and mouth. “Wake up, I need you for a minute.” There was no response and she took half a second to take on the quiet atmosphere before her family would inevitably break it. “Michael’s back.”

All at once, Peter’s door slammed open and she could hear her kids and Devin thundering down the stairs, raising their voice to an ungodly level so their questions could be heard over one another. She growled lowly as a warning and soon enough everybody was standing in the hallway.

Devin gagged the minute his nose got assaulted by the foul smell. “I’ll be in the kitchen,” he huffed. “Tell me when it’s gone.”

Nobody bothered to say anything in favor for staring at the door as if it was the biggest threat any of them had ever faced. Even Laura was glaring at it which was something Talia shouldn’t be surprised about, considering the amount of times she had taken the liberty of teaming up with Michael to tease Derek. 

Derek, who looked as if he were five seconds away from kicking the door in. Peter grabbed his shoulder before he could and she sent him a thankful nod before glancing at everybody else, specifically Valerie who had just gotten back from a twelve hour shift but still looked like she would kill anybody in her way if she had to. 

“I don’t smell any blood,” She tried to reassure. “But it’s kind of hard to tell because of how much he’s...emoting.” 

Laura snorted at her description and went up to the door, examining it. She turned around and before she could say anything Derek mumbled something bout mountain ash and forced the door open. 

“Derek!” 

Valerie’s shout meant nothing and they barely got a glimpse of Michael’s stagnant body on the bed before Derek shut the door again. 

“Derek, you ass! You better let us in or-” Peter gripped Laura’s fist that was pounding on the door and shook his head with a grim and understanding head jerk towards the door. 

“Leave them be, I’m sure Derek will explain his reasoning when they come out but none of us are in the right mindset to confront anybody right now.” He gave Talia a pointed look before herding them all out of the hall and into the kitchen, where Devin was grumbling while he searched for something to eat.

“Really now, you’re at this age and you still don’t know how to cook?” Valerie sighed. “C’mon, Talia and I’ll show you how to make french toast.”

Both Devin and Laura perked up and Talia gave a last backwards glance towards the hall before joining them, going a bit faster when she saw Devin messing with the knives. “Just ‘cause we heal fast doesn’t mean there won’t be a mess to clean!”

*

Stiles jolted awake, eyes snapping open when arms yanked him into a warm chest. They tightened around his waist and shoulders, ensuring that he couldn’t escape and if he weren’t on the brink of resuming his crying he would’ve found the sentiment cute. Instead, he put his hands on Derek’s sternum, unsure if he should push him away or pull him closer. The decision was made for him and in another second he was under the blankets with the wolf all but crushing him. 

“Michael.” Derek repeated his name like a mantra and nuzzled the top of his hair, which Stiles was sure didn’t smell anywhere close to roses. He didn’t care. For the first time since he left France, his mind was blank. He had cried for hours and hours in the car and he’d be shocked if he ever cried again afterwards. 

Stiles was just tired now, the bone deep, mind numbing tired, where everything felt like a dream. Derek was doing a good job of convincing him otherwise, what with how he would tighten his grip occasionally. His mumbling had cut off into short grunts and growls, so low that Stiles would think he was hallucinating if it wasn’t for how his chest vibrated along with it. 

He clasped his hand more insistently on the shirt and leaned his head onto the chest, sighing when he got comfortable. He dozed on and off and even though he lost track of everything else, he had a keen sense of where Derek was. He didn’t shift around too much but whenever he did a deep sense of dread would rile Stiles up and the wolf would waste no time in comforting him. 

It was nice. 

And then the questions started. 

“What happened?” Derek asked softly, hoping to comfort him with his tone. Michael stopped playing with the bottom of his shirt and paused to take a shuddering breath. 

“I don’t know how much Peter told you already.”

“He didn’t tell us anything.”

“Right. Okay then.” Stiles debated with himself, wondering if telling it to everybody all at once would be easier but hesitating with the looks he was sure to receive. Repetitive sob story that he was sure to have at least one more panic attack over that week or all at once and seeing the pity he hated in the eyes of the people he trusted. 

It wasn’t as hard a decision as he thought it would be. 

“What’re you…” Derek trailed off and watched as he stood up and wrapped himself with the blanket before gesturing for him to get up also. After he had the man’s arms secured in his grasp, he took a deep breath and led the way to the living room, coming to a stop when everybody turned their heads. 

Derek moved to step in front of him but a small tug on his arm was enough to let him know it was fine. 

“Uh. Hey, guys.” 

“It’s good to have you back, Michael.” Talia told him warmly. “You look like you have something to say.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at the couch, pleased when Peter was the only one sitting on it. “I figured I’d explain everything, answer your questions and whatnot. I don’t know what I’m going to do now, and I thought you guys would be good to bounce ideas off. Y’know, once you heard everything I mean.”

“We’d be happy to help you in any way we can. Let’s talk in the living room, it’ll be more comfortable in there.”

“Right.” Stiles sat himself beside Peter and tugged Derek down on the other side of him, shifting and adjusting the blanket until he was comfortable. He ignored the fact that Peter was staring holes into his head and licked his lips before starting. “I’ve been told that Peter hasn’t said much, if anything, but I know that you lot aren’t dumb so what did you pick up on your own?”

There was a brief silence before he started, like the Hales were giving him a last chance at an out. Talia was doing this weird twitching thing with her eyebrows and he had a small epiphany that oh, that’s where Derek gets it from. Either way though, he’d made up his mind and the more time that passed where he didn’t tell them, the harder it was going to be.

“Okay,” he mumbled to himself, sitting straighter and steeling himself over. “So after graduating my friends and I threw this party at my house to celebrate and since most of us were antisocial assholes, it was a pretty small and private thing. It was me, my six friends, and my dad, who was the sheriff of the town. Fast forward until the end of the night and there was a drive by shooter who took out everybody except me. My dad jumped in front of me but got shot more than he should’ve because of it.”

He took a minute to wet his lips and turned to Peter when he nudged him. He avoided looking at his eyes for the time being and instead focused on his ear, giving him a nod and pinching himself under the blankets before continuing. 

“I didn’t know what to do so I just kind of… froze, y’know? And then I felt something warm and when I looked, it was- it was blood. From my dad.” Stiles shuddered and pulled the blankets tighter around himself, bringing his knees to his chest while he clenched his eyes and tried to war off the flashbacks that he’d seen too many times. 

“I was in the middle of a panic attack so I did the first thing I thought of, which was to get my dad off of me and try to stop the bleeding while I called Terra, who worked with my dad. She tried to keep me on the phone but once I heard the sirens and saw the ambulance I made a run for it. I was scared and I didn’t want to be around people because I knew they would ask questions and I didn’t even know myself what had happened until later.”

Derek’s hand went under the flap of the blanket and he subtly pried Stiles’ fingers away from his palm. He settled for squeezing his hand instead and took a breath to finish talking, ignoring how his hands were once again trembling. 

“Michael,” Talia’s stern yet soothing voice broke him out of his thoughts and he jerked, looking down to where she crouched in front of him. “You don’t have to force yourself to tell us.”

He shook his head, about to say that yes, he _did_ have to tell them because nothing would change otherwise and then he’d be in the same situation he was before they met them but he got interrupted by a series of loud, demanding knocks on the door. 

Talia frowned and turned towards Devin, who was the closest to the door, and put on a questioning smile as she nodded towards the sound.

“Fine,” he grumbled. 

Stiles leaned into Derek and distracted himself from the heavy silence by playing with the man’s fingers, smiling when the wolf initiated a game of thumb wars.

“Where is he?” Stiles blood ran cold and he snapped his head towards the voice, the familiarity of it bringing tears to his eyes. He could hear Devin stuttering a storm and got to his feet in a daze, shrugging off Peter’s shoulder as he stumbled into the entrance hall where he nearly fell if it hadn’t been for Derek catching him.

There, glaring furiously at a blushing Devin, was a red headed woman who had stolen his heart in elementary school and then his spot of valedictorian in high school. He thought he’d lost his best friend forever and yet she was standing tall and proud and fierce in front of him. 

He was aware that he made a noise, he had to have because everybody turned to him at once and even though there were a million other things to focus on and his ears were ringing again, all he could do was keep staring wide eyed at her. 

Time stopped when they made eye contact, everything besides Lydia and himself didn’t matter because right now, Lydia was home. She was alive and in front of him and why was he still standing there?

Stiles flung the blanket off of himself and nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to get to her. She moved too and they met in the middle of the kitchen, his back being forced into the counter behind him with the force of it. Her hands were digging into his back, her nails scratching his skin through his shirt and her chin was embedded into his collarbone as she sobbed. 

His grasp was as tight, if not tighter, than hers and they fell to the ground together, neither one of them letting go of their death grips as their cries turned into hysterical laughter.

Lydia pulled back first, dragging a finger under her eyes to rid them of the tears. Her face was blotchy and she was still breathing heavily, but she was _alive_.  
“I-” He shook his head with a disbelieving laugh, running his eyes over her frame and taking her in. “I’m not dreaming, right?”

“I’m going to be beyond pissed if this is a dream, Stilinski.” Her voice broke and wavered and did nothing but add to the stark relief that was seeping into him. 

“Stilinski?” Laura interrupted. “S’that your last name? Michael Stilinski, huh?” She shook her head and crossed her arms. “It doesn’t really have a ring to it. Maybe we can give you a nickname?”

Lydia stood up swiftly, dragging him with her, and kept his arm looped with her own while she dusted off her clothes. After flipping her hair so it wasn’t resting on her shoulder, she gave the Hales a smile, one that he noticed was fake right away. 

“Lydia Martin, it’s nice to meet you. I think it would be a good idea for us to sit and get this,” she gestured to the Hales and themselves vaguely. “All figured out.”

“Lyds, I don’t know if-”

“Shut it, Stiles. You and I are going to have our own conversation once we figure the rest out.”

That was what convinced him, he thought. The way she talked to him as if nothing had changed, as if they hadn’t spent years without talking to one another. Her fingers were shaking though, a clear message that she wasn’t nearly as put together as she presented herself. 

It was comforting, now that he had proof he wasn’t the only one in a free fall and even looking at the Hales, _really_ looking at them, he knew that they were all in the same boat.

Stiles had forgotten what it felt like to not be alone. Now, with the Hales and Lydia with him, he had a feeling that wouldn't be happening any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has a panic attack because of what the man told him on top of his guilt for not trying harder to protect his family. He recalls how he should've done things differently and how if he had, maybe they would still be alive. He calls Lydia's phone knowing that she won't answer and tells her how much he misses them all and how it should've been him instead of all of them. 
> 
> This chapter was a struggle lol but it's here now and I'm proud of how it turned out! This story will be coming to an end pretty soon, sad as it is. The next chapter will be a bit shorter and then after that there's only the Epilogue left. I hope you liked it and thanks again for all your kind words and support, I'll try to respond to some of your comments as soon as I have the time!


	6. Chapter 6

_Lydia waved off her assistant with a muttered thanks as she put away the projects she had been working on. Work had been hectic lately and even though she tried her best to stay on top of things, the unexpected seemed to happen to her whenever it was given a chance. She knew she was more than qualified to be the head of her company's statistics branch, but that didn’t mean she was overly fond of the workload that came with it._

_After she was done filing, she stood from her chair and stretched, humming appreciatively when her back cracked. Her phone buzzed from her blazer pocket and a small smile planted itself on her face when she saw who it was._

_“Hey, Jacks.”_

_“Hey, how long did we ground Cameron for? Because I was looking online and there’s this really cool painting set I think he’d like, what do you think?”_

_“Jackson, he scribbled on half of our living room’s walls, I don’t think we need to add paint to his problem.”_

_“But-”_

_“What about getting him some dry erase markers?” She suggested. “You can get him one of those small whiteboards, too.”_

_Before her husband could respond, a loud crash was heard and he cursed quietly before apologizing and hanging up, promising to talk to her later._

_“Mrs. Whittemore, sorry to catch you on your way out but I forgot to tell you something.” Her assistant smiled apologetically and she raised an interested eyebrow._

_“What is it?”_

_“The, uh, the phone? You know, the one that you gave to me when I first started working for you?”_

_Lydia’s brain froze, her heart stopping for what seemed like hours before kick starting itself and she fought to keep a straight face even as her mind was screaming at her to do anything but that, because that meant that there was a chance that…._

_She coughed. “What about it?”_

_“Somebody called while we were in the meeting with the CEO and-” The woman gasped when she yanked the phone from her gasp, taken aback by the sudden movement._

_“You can go now,” Lydia told her as she keyed in her password. “I’ll let you know if I need something from you.”_

_“Right. Um, have a good night, Mrs. Whittemore.”_

_Lydia ignored her and tapped on the only voicemail her phone from high school had. It was an hour old, more recent than she would have expected and she prayed that it was who she thought it was. And then she pressed play and regretted it instantly, because the Stiles she remembered never sounded as broken as the man crying on the other end did. He never wished that he could take the place of somebody he cared about who had died. He always mourned them, of course, but he’d never, in the eighteen years she’d known him, wished that he could take their place._

_Because even if he lost somebody he truly cared about, there were always a handful more to help pick the pieces he’d dropped back up for him._

_But this… She swallowed heavily as she listened to it again, realization running over her body in a shockingly cold wave. If he thought that everybody he grew up with had died, then that would surely change him. Debating whether the change was for better or for worse would be a foolish thing to do, as the hiccuping wails answered the question clearly._

_She didn’t realize she was crying too, not until she opened her eyes that she subconsciously closed and saw the opposite side of her office in a glossy haze. She took a deep, shaky breath and stood up on unsteady legs._

_She grabbed her purse and keys from her desk and left the office without another word. She pressed five on her speed dial as she settled into her car and had just buckled her seat belt when a groggy voice answered her._

_“Lydia? Y’know it’s before eleven and that I have work tonight, right?”_

_“Work can wait. Stiles called me.”_

_He was silent on the other end and she was about to tell him to _move_ when there was the sound of a frantic curse and blankets rustling. “What? When did he call? Is he alright?”_

_“I don’t know,” She responded tightly. “I was in a stupid meeting when he called so I need you to track his cell, can you do that, Danny? Like within the next five minutes?”_

_An offended huff and determined confirmation later the call ended. She sent a quick message to Jackson telling him what had happened and didn’t have time to read his reply before her GPS came to life with directions._

_Lydia stared at her hands on the wheel, ignoring how they were trembling, and started the car after counting to ten. The trip would take longer than she wished for, but she would move mountains to see her best friend again._

_She just hoped that he wouldn’t break beyond repair before she could get to him._

“And that’s how I found you.” Lydia finished.

Stiles stared at her blankly. He couldn’t comprehend what she was saying. Her face softened and she scooted herself closer to him until she was halfway on top of his lap. His arms automatically found purchase on her waist and he breathed in her perfume, which hadn’t changed since her middle school days. It was… jarring. Having somebody that he’d been trying to convince himself was dead just show up and give him undeniable proof that they were real.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry that I left you by yourself. I thought that for sure you would’ve…”

She pulled back as if he’d slapped her and from the jolts on the side of them, Derek and Peter were just as surprised as he was. 

She shook her head frantically and cupped his face, her hands cool against his skin. “Stiles, everybody is alive,” She told him vehemently. “Scott, Kira, Danny, Jacks, me. We’re all alive.”

His world stopped. Crumbled. And then built itself back up, revolving around what she was telling him. 

“What? But I- I saw you! You were bleeding so much, there’s no way you could’ve survived! And Jackson was having a panic attack and crying and Danny’s eyes were closed and- and Scott was lying on top of Kira who was wailing like I don’t know what!”

The Hales watched the two of them, how Lydia’s eyes were tearing up more with everything he said and how her emotions were at war, torn between elation and guilt. 

“Stiles, I promise you. They’re alive. We’re all alive. Some of us got hurt, yes, but the only one who died was…” She took an uneven breath and eyed them guardedly, bringing his head closer to her chest so she could shield his face from them. “Your dad was the only person who died. Jackson was crying because he pushed him out of the way before he got to you and he ended up falling onto his bad knee, the one he had to go to physical therapy for because of that lacrosse match, and then he started panicking because he saw what was going on. Danny was passed out before the car even passed us, you know how much of a lightweight he is even though he tries to fool everybody. As for Scott and Kira, he was just protecting her, both of them were fine.”

“But then… Why didn’t you stop me?” He asked brokenly. “If you were all alive why didn’t you stop me from running or tell me you were okay? Do you know how scared I was? My dad died right in front of me, Lydia, and you’re telling me that everybody was okay?” He raised his voice towards the end and would’ve continued had a small, devastating noise from the back of his throat not been released. 

She tightened his grip and shook her head again. “I was trying to talk to you and Scott told you to call the ambulance while he went to grab towels to try to stop the bleeding. I went with him in the house to see what medical stuff I could find. And then when we went back outside you were gone and Parish was there with a bunch of deputies that Terra sent after you called.”

He mumbled a meek ‘oh’ into her shoulder and she rubbed his back soothingly while he collected himself. Once he had stopped shaking, she pushed him back and gave him the glare that had traumatized his teenage self. 

“Now, explain to me how you met these people and why you never thought of going back home.”

Talia cleared her throat politely and gave them a smile when they found her eyes. “I don’t mean to intrude, but we have questions ourselves and while we were able to keep up on what you said for the most part, I’m still confused on something. I thought his name was Michael, so why are you calling him Stiles?”

Lydia huffed and smacked the back of his head, oblivious to the way Derek narrowed his eyes and Peter’s wrist that wrapped around his arm when he tried to move. “His real name is Mieczyslaw but when we were kids a lot of us couldn’t pronounce it so we gave him nicknames. Some of us called him Mischief and some of us called him Michael, but he ended up giving himself the name ‘Stiles’ and that’s what stuck with us.”

She nodded and together with _Stiles_ , they proceeded to tell Lydia the events that had led them to one another. She was quiet for the most part but her eyes were all but shouting at Stiles with the glances she sent him. Eventually, after a few hours had passed, they had caught her up so they were on the same page. 

“What I want to know is how you got so far so fast,” Lydia told him as she crossed her arms. “We had the whole station looking out for you and we didn’t find anything.”

“That’s probably when I met Angelo.”

“Angelo? Who’s that?”

“My boss. But also my client. And I guess he was my teacher too, at some point.”

Lydia rubbed her temples and slid off of him, giving a sharp glance to Derek when he pulled him closer to his side. “I have a feeling I won’t be happy about this.”

“You probably won’t.” He agreed with a shrug and humorless chuckle. “He found me behind the school field. It had just started to rain and I was about to get sick because of a panic attack, but then he stopped his driver and got out of the car to talk to me. He didn’t say anything about why I was there or what had happened, he just offered me his hand and said that he’d sort everything out if I wanted to leave for a while.”

“So you went with him? Just like that? Without even knowing what had happened to us?”

“Put yourself in my place, Lydia. Of course I would want to leave if I would be reminded of what I had lost every day.” She kissed her teeth and silently gestured for him to continue. “Anyway, long story short he brought me to his place and was telling me how if I wanted to I could work for him. He said that it’d be a secure job and I could earn money and learn how to defend and provide for myself.”

Lydia recalled the voicemail he had left her and tried her hardest to keep the dread from showing on her face. “And that was…”

Stiles couldn’t bring himself to look at her, self hatred igniting itself in every crevice of his body. “Yeah. I was trained to be a hitman and became the kind of killer my dad despised. Ironic, huh? I watched him work and defend the town for eighteen years and the night he dies I end up turning into a monster.”

He didn’t think anybody expected her hand to lash out against his cheek, but in hindsight he shouldn’t have expected anything else. 

“You’re an idiot, Stiles. You’re an absolute moron who doesn’t know how to do anything other than what they’ve decided on doing, you’re full of baggage and you’ve made so many questionable decisions it’s a miracle you’re not put away somewhere.” Her shoulders hunched and it looked like her energy was just about drained as she slumped against him. “But none of that matters because I missed you and I’d rather have your stupidly smart self than a dead one.”

He’s about to say something when a glimmer catches his eye and the noise he lets out is barely human. He lifts up her left hand and studies the ring on her fourth finger, stammering as he tries to piece together a sentence. Soon enough he’s able to let out a ‘who’ and she snorts at him before answering.

“Who do you think? Jackson, obviously.” She pulls out her phone and types in her password, showing him her home screen with a grin. “This is Cameron, your godson. You’ve missed out on two birthdays already, so I expect you to have those presents before you meet him.”

He took the phone from her and stared at the boy, he would have looked like Jackson with his blonde hair and blue eyes had it not been for that little knowing smirk that was basically Lydia’s trademark at that point and the little dimple in his right cheek.

“I see you’re still single, too.” She laughed at his face and he had a second to revel in the familiar joyous sound before he remembered who exactly she was laughing at. 

“Actually,” He grabbed Derek’s arm, smiling at the wolf’s hitch of breath as he did so, and wrapped it around his shoulders. “This man right here is mine. We’ve been dating for a while now.”

Lydia raised her eyebrow and gave him a sly glance that told him all he needed to know about her approval. However, this was Lydia he was talking about and she was prone to be protective. Especially over those she thought had been dead for years. 

“Oh? And how exactly did that come to happen?”

“Oh, it was so romantic. You see, I had just walked inside and before I could do anything he threw me down on the table and initiated what’s quite possibly the hottest make out session humanity has seen. Me, I’m humanity, and I can confirm that it’s true.”

“Michae-Stiles.” Derek grumbled, the tips of his ears turning an endearing shade of red. 

Lydia relaxed into the couch with a startled laugh, and _God_ , does it feel good to laugh with him again. “Well, it looks like at least one good thing came out of your situation.”

Stiles nodded with an easy smile, one that he knew wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. He was still reeling and every time he thought he’d found his footing, another thing made him slip up and he had to start over again, but it was… it was good. Because now he had his friends _and_ the Hales, and now another best friend in the form of a sarcastic wolf and, by some miracle, Derek was his now, too. 

*

Later, after he’d helped Lydia settle in another guest room and promised they’d talk at length tomorrow when she wasn’t so tired, he took a shower. It was the first thing that came to mind that would maybe, hopefully, help hide his scent and muffled cries from the Hales.

He couldn’t believe how much time he’d wasted that could’ve been spent with his friends, who were _alive_. Instead of being there for them in their time of need he had quite literally ran away and fell off the map. They probably thought that he’d abandoned them, especially Scott. 

Scott. He wondered what had happened to them in the years they’d been apart. Was he still in veterinary school like he wanted? Or did he change his career idea and settle for something more mundane, like working with Kira in their family business of appraising and selling antiques. Lydia had caught him up on her life with Jackson, and really he never would’ve imagined Jackson as a stay at home dad, but that proves what he knows. 

He raised his head from where it was bowed and stared at his hands that were pressed against the wet tiles in front of him. It was strange to think that his friends and himself, who had been such a close knit group, had lived their own lives thinking the other was dead or off the map. And it was his fault, too. If he had just _stayed_ in the first place he never would’ve ended up a killer and-

The water stung his still red cheek when he turned his head and he touched it with a wince but couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. Lydia always helped even when she felt that she didn’t. She had a way of forcing people to look at the bright side and right now, Stiles was almost blinded with it. 

His friends were alive. He had a new best friend and a sexy dork as a boyfriend. He’d met a lot of people and even though he wasn’t happy with how he’d spent his life since graduation, he couldn’t deny that he’d learned a lot and came out stronger and more confident in his skills because of it.

Stiles turned off the shower and stepped out, drying himself off distractedly before sliding on a pair of boxer briefs. He nudged open the door and shuffled around his hair inside the towel, cursing when he ran into somebody. His foot slipped as he tried to back away and if it weren’t for the arms that reached out to steady him he would’ve been on his ass in a second. 

“Thanks-oh.” Stiles took in his boyfriend’s worried gaze as it searched his body, smirking when the concern turned into something more heated and lustful. “You know,” he started. “This really isn’t fair.”

Derek blinked. “What?”

“I’m practically naked and you’re still wearing that damn jacket of yours. Don’t take that the wrong way. It’s sexy and I love it but I prefer comfort when we’re going to bed, y’know?”

“Mic-Stiles. I have to get used to saying that now, huh?”

“You can call me whatever, it doesn’t really matter.”

Derek rolled his eyes and turned him so he was facing his room, shoving him lightly and walking behind him when he started to move. “Of course it matters, it’s your name. I don’t like dishonesty and I feel like that toes the line.”

He hummed in acknowledgement and tossed a knowing grin over his shoulder. “You just want to watch my ass, don’t you?” He laughed at Derek’s flustered stuttering and waved his hand in dismissal. “I’m teasing, calm down.”

He moved to his duffel bag and pulled out a pair of sweats, putting them on as he answered the unspoken question that was clear on Derek’s face. “I’m okay. I mean, I’m still kinda reeling obviously but it’s good. I think.” He plopped himself onto the bed and stared at the wall. “It sucks too, though. When she told me that they were still alive, I had a little bit of hope left that my dad would be, too. But now it’s reality that he really is gone, y’know?” 

There was a short pause while the wolf settled behind him. He heard rustling before a soft towel started to dry his hair, Derek’s hands massaging his head as he maneuvered the cloth. He let out a small moan and relaxed into it, missing the way his hands fumbled before starting again. He let his mind go blank and did something he hasn’t done since he was eighteen. 

He enjoyed what was happening right then and didn’t worry about what would be coming the next day. 

Derek’s arm tightened around him and he pulled Stiles against himself to arrange the blankets around them. He thought back to the few one night stands he’d had and something inside him died a little at what he had been missing out on. 

After he was satisfied with their positioning, Derek rested his head in the curve of his neck and sighed. Stiles’ eyelids grew heavy and he yawned as they listened to the rain hit the paned glass. 

“Tell me about them?” Derek requested hesitantly. Stiles let a few minutes slip by, debating as he played with the wolf’s fingers. 

“Scott’s like a brother to me,” he started softly. “We grew up together. He was there for me when my mom died and I helped him through his asthma attacks when he heard his parents fighting again and all up to the time they got divorced. We slept over at each other’s houses almost every day. We met the rest of our friends in high school. Jackson was the douchey jock, Danny his too ‘pure for the world’ best friend, and Lydia the school’s queen bee. We all hated each other at first, especially Jackson and I.”

“Why?”

Stiles shrugged. “There was just something that didn’t set well with us. Now that I think about it though, I think it was because we were too similar even though our differences were immeasurable. I mean, I had a loving father and a dead mom and he had two parents who didn’t blink an eye at him. We were both suffering and maybe we saw that in each other, along with how they were doing better at something. I had the grades and he had the athleticism. We got closer through Lydia after an incident happened, though, and at the end of our graduation we all decided we’d go to the same school together.”

“And Lydia? Wait, wasn’t there another girl, too? Katelynn or something?”

Stiles chuckled and tilted his head back to grin at him. “Close, but it’s Kira. She’s Scott’s girlfriend and Lydia’s enabler. She falls into the same category as Danny, too.”

Derek hummed against his neck, smiling at the shiver that went through his boyfriend. “And Lydia? You guys seem close.”

“Well, yeah. I mean that’s bound to happen when you’re competing for the best grades and are the only sane ones in your friend group.”

“You? Sane? Did you forget that time that you walked on a broken ankle the day after it was wrapped? Because I’m pretty sure sane people don’t do that, Stiles.” 

Stiles hummed nonchalantly, burying his face into the soft blankets to hide his grin. There was something about hearing his name, especially in Derek’s voice, so long after acting like he was somebody else. They didn’t talk a lot after that, just the mumbled small talk lovers do before they fall asleep, and wasn’t that somethin? Despite his efforts to stay detached and cool headed, Stiles had got himself a lover during what was one of the roughest periods of his life.

He wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

*

It’s not like he didn’t expect it. Lydia was notorious for her perseverance and insistence. She would get what she wanted, and that was the end of the conversation. Still, Stiles wished that he could’ve gotten his ass handed to him in a less...private area. 

“Stiles,” Lydia called with a disapproving scowl. “We’re only on the twenty fourth slide, pay attention.”

He slid lower in his seat and sighed when he saw the baristas laughing at his situation and twirled his tea between his fingers. “Uh, Lyds? Can we do this somewhere else?”

“What? Why?” She shook her head, turning his request down immediately. “No, we’re fine here. You should be thankful, you know. I could’ve gone through this in front of the Hales. Count your blessings, Stilinski.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Moving on.” She tapped the keypad on her laptop with a perfectly manicured nail, humming when she saw what the next power point, yes, that’s right, _power point_ read. “You should be happy, we’re moving on from the big things that you’ve missed and going into what’s been going on with you. So, what college did you graduate from? Degree?” 

Her fingers were ready to type, resting familiarly on the home keys as she waited. And waited. Stiles took a sip of his tea, wincing when her head snapped towards him, eyes set into a hard, accusing glare. 

“You didn’t.”

“That depends on what I didn’t do, because I did a lot of things, but I also...didn’t do a lot of things. Maybe.”

She turned her body towards him, indignation written all over her face. “Stiles, tell me you graduated from college. Hell, tell me that you _went_ to college.”

He looked at her perfectly shaped eyebrow and nodded once. “I went to college.”

Her hand met his shoulder violently, and he yelped as he rubbed it. “What was that for?”

“Because! You didn’t go to college!”

“I just told you I did!”

“You were lying!”

Stiles groaned and pushed his drink away. “I didn’t see the point in college. I had a job that paid good and it wasn’t like I had any goals.”

Lydia was quiet for a long time and with a mumbled curse she shut her laptop harder than what was necessary and downed her drink in one go. “Okay,” she started. “First thing’s first. What do you want to do?”

“Go back to the house? Sleep more? Cuddle with my boyfriend, y’know, the one you snagged me away from earlier?”

“Stiles. I’m being serious, this is your future we’re talking about.”

He ran a hand through his hair and frowned at her. “I don’t know, Lydia. I’ve never thought about it. I have a good amount of money saved up from the jobs I did so you can understand why I’m not falling over myself to go back to school. My nerves are already shot to hell, it’d be useless if I go back now when I don’t even know what I want to do.”

“What about joining that police academy you were talking about?”

Stiles snorted and shook his head. “What, when I know that half of the crimes were something that I had a part in? Yeah, no thanks.”

Lydia tapped her nails on the table and pursed her teeth as she thought. 

“Really, Lyds. I’m fine.”

“That’s exactly what people who aren’t fine say. Now be quiet, let me think.”

Knowing that she wouldn’t budge, he went to throw away his plastic cup and pulled out his phone when it buzzed in his pocket. He snorted at Macie’s question of if he’d known somebody had tracked his phone and sent back an affirmative, stuffing the phone back into his jeans when she didn’t respond. 

He sat back down next to Lydia, warmth and gratitude seeping through him at the measures they all took to see him. 

“What’s that stupid look on your face for?”

“It’s not stupid,” He parried easily. “And I think it’s normal to look like this when your best friend hacks into your phone to make sure you’re okay.” He chuckled at her twisted expression and knocked her knee with his own. “Really,” he told her, softer this time. “Thank you.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, but there was a pleased blush on her face when she looked back at her phone’s screen. “Don’t thank me yet, you can do that after you found out what you want to do.”

“Right.”

“Seriously, though. There has to be _something_ you’re good at. That isn’t considered a crime to the public.” She added after a moment’s hesitation. 

He shrugged. “I’m good at fighting and making plans. Researching too, I guess.” 

She nods her head and closes her eyes while she thinks, her perfect eyebrows furrowed in concentration. She’d been silent for close to five minutes so it was no wonder that Stiles jolted when she suddenly sat straighter and slapped the table.

“Lyds, what the hell! You scared the shit out of me!” 

“Teacher,” She told him excitedly. “You can be a self defense teacher. Y’know, like Parish did before he started at the station? I’m sure he’d be willing to help you out, too.”

“Teacher? Lydia, did you forget the part where-”

“Doesn’t matter,” she interrupted. “It’s perfect, Stiles. Think about it, you’d be able to make schedules based on what you’re comfortable with, you’d be teaching people how to defend themselves and you could make sure you get some decent practice in yourself, too. Just consider it, yeah?”

He nodded, too lost in thought to do more than that and listened half heartedly on how her company was in the middle of a big deal with one of their rivals, and how if it fell through then she would leave without a backward glance because she wouldn’t be associating herself with idiots. Stiles was sure that she knew he wasn’t paying as much attention as she would’ve liked, and mentally thanked her when she overlooked it. 

He’d never thought about a future that didn’t involve Angelo and Macie, but now that he could, _hypothetically_ , do that…

Well, he had some serious thinking to do. 

*

Derek watched him from the corner of his eye throughout dinner. There was something off about Stiles and while it didn’t seem like it was a _bad_ thing per se, it was enough of something to keep his mind off of the conversations being held over the table. 

“Stiles,” Devin waved his hand in front of his face, crumbs on the side of his mouth that Lydia grimaced at. “Y’know that test that I was tellin’ you about? Well, guess who passed it.” His smug expression slowly drifted to concern when Stiles didn’t respond and just stared blankly at him. Derek nudged his foot under the table, frowning when he jolted and looked at him before realizing what had been said.

“That’s awesome, dude! Congrats! Oh, wait, did she say anything to you? Maybe do a face or something when she handed it back?”

Devin nodded enthusiastically and pretended he didn’t notice the other man’s unease. “Yeah, she just said a really short ‘good job’ to me and then that was it. But she didn’t do anything for the rest of class so I was happy.”

“I’m proud of you,” Stiles told him genuinely. “Keep it up.”

Devin preened at the praise and Peter muttered something about how he was supposed to react like that towards his _father_ , huffing and rolling his eyes when Devin stuck his tongue out at him. 

“So,” Lydia started after wiping her mouth. Derek tensed when he saw the determined set of her mouth, thinking of anything that could help him prepare for whatever she would say. She nudged her elbow against Stiles’ and his frown deepened at the soft smile he returned. “I think you should come back with me.” 

Stiles grimaced. Hadn’t they gone over this while they were getting coffee? Derek was barely breathing and he didn’t even get a chance to elaborate on what she was saying before Peter set his glass down, a lot more forceful than Stiles would recommend for glass. 

“What’s the reasoning, if I may know?”

Lydia’s eye twitched and she gave him a passive stare. “Not that it’s your business, but there’s a whole town waiting for him, including the rest of us, his _childhood friends_ , and his step mother, who’s probably packing her bags to come up here and rip him a new one before forcing him to eat and then go to bed.”

“Wait, Melissa knew, too?” Stiles asked with a frown. “I thought only you and Danny knew.”

“Stiles, sweetie, you should know better from your ex. He’s surprisingly eager and tells everybody who’ll give him time what he’s excited about.”

Stiles chuckled and nodded his agreement. “Yeah, that’s true. But wait, who all knows then? That I’m actually alive, I mean.”

“Weren’t you listening? I meant what I said by the whole town, Stiles. Hell, even Harris smiled for a second.”

“Excuse me,” Laura interrupted. “I understand that there are people who care about Stiles and who’re falling over themselves to see him, but we’re here, too. We’ve been taking care of him for months now and he’s become pa- practically family with how much we’ve come to care for him.” She gave a subtle grin to Derek before returning to Lydia. “Some more than others.”

Stiles decided to but in before the air got even more tense. “I’m going with her,” he winced at the collective dismay his statement got, his stomach dropping as Derek’s face fell and closed off. “It’s not right now, and it probably won’t even be permanent,” He gave a pointed look to his friend when it looked like she was going to protest before continuing. “It’s just… it’s my home, y’know? And even if I don’t stay there forever, I’d want to be there for awhile just to _be_. Be with the people I grew up with and be in the town I lived in. And Lyds is right, there’s people there who deserve to know what happened that day. And that the killer’s dead now, too.”

“If that’s your decision, there’s no point in any of us trying to change it.” Talia took a sip of her drink and put it down, a lot more gentle than Peter had. “However, I hope you know that you’re stuck with us now.”

Stiles grinned at her and even when he felt his face heating with his happiness, he didn’t try to look away. It would be some time until he got used to showing his emotions outright and not giving off a cool exterior every time like his training had ingrained into him, but he thought he was off to a good start.

“So what are your plans then?” Derek asked calmly. _Too_ calmly, actually, but Stiles heard his silent question. _Where do I fit into your future? Am I even in it?_  


Stiles traded a glance with Lydia and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I, uh. I’m going to try my hand at college.” The Hale’s surprise quickly morphed into pride and Derek relaxed before sliding his palm into Stiles’ and intertwining their fingers. He shot the man a quick smile and looked at everyone again. “It’s going to be online ‘cause I wouldn’t be able to handle so many strangers in one place, my nerves, they’re… you know.” He gave a shrug and squeezed Derek’s hand. “So, yeah. Hitman turned college kid. That’s me.”

“Awesome!” Devin yelled excitedly. “Wait, what are you gonna study?”

“Business marketing.” 

“Really? Huh. I don’t know whether to be disappointed or not.” Valerie slapped the back of his head and smiled at him.

“I think that’s a great idea. What’re you going to do after you graduate?”

Stiles wrapped his free arm around Lydia and pulled her closer to himself, grinning somewhat shyly at the Hales. “Lyds is going to be my business partner.”

She smirked at their faces and took a sip of her wine, wine that she’d bought herself because she didn’t trust their taste, even when she saw how strict Talia was with her ingredients while making dinner. 

“Business? So you’re actually gonna be like a CEO of something?”

“A gym, to be more accurate.”

Derek snapped his head towards him and raised his eyebrows, his eyes swimming with confusion and something else Stiles couldn’t determine. “Really?”

“Yeah. But it’s going to be _more_ , y’know? I want it to be half fitness center and half a martial arts studio or dojo or something like that. I want to… make up, I guess, for all the people I hurt and killed at my old job. So I’ll be teaching people how to defend themselves and maybe I’ll persuade the station to be partners with us.”

Lydia removed his arm from her and lopped hers through it instead, pursing her lips as she considered the idea. “That could work, actually. Danny’s part of the team now and we already know Parish. I’m sure you know them a lot more than us, though. You think we could make that happen?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. If nothing else, I’m sure Terra could manhandle them into it.”

“That’d be great, then. And of course I’d take care of our finances and budgeting.”

Derek’s hand tightened around his. “Wait, you two are going to run this together?”

Stiles cocked his head and stared at him curiously. “Yeah? We talked about being business partners throughout high school, the plan just went from being the world’s smartest mathematicians to running a gym slash dojo.”

Laura hummed from across the table and bit her lip before she spoke, all while staring at both Derek and himself. “You know, Derek does have… connections with some really good personal trainers and a physical therapist. Maybe you could give them a call?”

“Laura-”

“That’d be great!” Lydia grinned at him and Derek managed a half smile back, still trying to wrap his head around what was pushed onto him. But then he saw Stiles face, the wonder and cautious hope in his eyes, and decided that he’d do everything in his power to make sure he wouldn’t come home battered and bruised and full of guilt and sadness ever again. 

“Yeah,” He held Lydia’s stare, her calculative eyes sending a shiver through him as he turned back to the food on his plate. “I’ll try to contact them sometime this week.”

Stiles’ grin lit up the room and Talia smiled at how big of a difference it made to have a family, blood related or not..

“Great,” Lydia beamed. “I’ll send in my two weeks notice today and then start looking for empty lots around Beacon Hills.”

Valerie frowned. “Why not here? New York is sure to have more options and I imagine that it’s more populated than where you two grew up.”

Lydia shrugged and tossed her braid over her shoulder. “We’ll eventually spread out and make more buildings, but for now we decided to start in our hometown where we’re familiar with everything.”

“And we’ll have more people willing to volunteer and help out rather than paying strangers.” Stiles added. 

“So when are you leaving?” Peter asked sullenly. 

Lydia’s stare hardened and she stabbed a piece of steak with her fork before chewing on it.

“I’m staying here until I graduate. Lyds is already planning a graduation party for me and that’s when I’ll meet up with my friends and family again.”

Derek blinked but his mom was the one to ask the question everybody was thinking. “Why not do that now? I bet you miss them a lot.”

“I do! I do, but-”

“But Stiles is a stubborn douche, that’s what.” Lydia interrupted. “He doesn’t want to see everybody even though they’re his _friends_ until he graduates because he refuses to be the only one without a college diploma in his hand.”

Stiles slumped in his seat at the looks that got him. “It’s embarrassing, okay! I was the second best of our school and now I don’t even have anything to prove my intelligence except a lousy high school diploma.” Devin made a wounded noise and he sent him an apologetic glance.

“Stiles, honey, I doubt your friends will think that after you tell them what you’ve been up to.”

“Yeah, I’m uh, I probably won’t be telling them that.” 

Lydia nodded. “That’s probably a good idea. You’ll probably end up telling Melissa ‘cause you’ve always been weak to her, but other than that I can’t see you telling anybody else.” 

There was a short silence before she coughed and met Talia’s eyes. “Would it be okay if I stayed here for a couple days? I already scheduled a visit to an apartment close by, but in the meantime I’d rather not rent out a hotel room.”

“Lydia, we talked about-”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m staying and helping you graduate early no matter what you say.” She dismissed quickly. 

Talia chuckled and nodded her head. “Of course you can stay. Any friend of Stiles is a friend of ours.”

“That would be great, thank you.” She stood up and brought her plate to the sink, washing it before she put it in the dish rack to dry through the night. “Stiles, expect a call tomorrow morning.”

He turned in his chair and gave her a grimace and Derek, bless his soul, tightened his grip and ran his thumb over his wrist softly. “Who?”

“Don’t give me that look, I think I know how to not overwhelm my best friend, thank you. It’s just Scott and Melissa, but Kira might be there too. I made sure to keep the limit under four people, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, I-” He swallowed, picturing how he last saw his friends. “That’s probably for the best right now.”

“Exactly. Anyway, I’m going to go write my resignation letter and go to bed. Tomorrow we’ll work on getting you enrolled into whatever university you want and maybe put out some more feelers for land, too.”

“‘Kay.”

She ruffled his hair as she passed the table and even gave Derek’s shoulder a heavy pat. “It’s good to have you back, Stiles.”

“You too, Lyds. ‘Night.”

“Goodnight.” She nodded towards the rest of the Hales and pulled out her phone on the way to the room she was staying in, tapping on it insistently before she closed her door.  
Laura cleared her throat and tapped the table lightly in front of him. “So are you moving back to your home town?”

“I think so,” He started slowly. “At least for a couple years. I want to be around everybody again but I don’t think I’ll last long there because I’ll just be reminded of my dad everywhere I look. You guys know how small it is, everybody knows everybody and I can imagine the kind of rumors that have spread about me up to this point.” He shrugged and removed his hand from Derek’s to rest his head on it. 

“Ideally I’d want to open two gyms, one here and one in Beacon Hills, but that all depends on how well our first one does. We’d have to look for trainers and other staff to hire, plus get all the paperwork and official stuff out of the way.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he thought about it.

“And you’re good with money? The expenses are going to be… large, for what you’re planning.” Peter said carefully. 

“Yeah, I know. But I have a good amount in there so I’m not worried about it.” A yawn broke off his sentence and Derek jumped at the chance to have some alone time with him. He muttered something to his family and grabbed Stiles’ hand, dragging him off of the chair and towing him behind him as he dropped their plates into the sink and led him to their room.

Stiles snickered at his haste and watched with a grin as the man closed the door while he sat on the edge of the bed. “Eager there, huh?”

“I have something to tell you but I don’t want you to think I’m clingy so I’m debating if I should or not.” Derek rushed. 

Stiles blinked and then frowned when he broke down what his boyfriend said. He opened his arms for him and a second later he had a trembling man in his embrace. “Why would I think that?”

“...I was told that before…” Was the mumbled answer he received. The pieces clicked into place and he cursed Kate’s dead body as he hugged him tighter, setting his face into the crook of his neck in hopes that his scent would calm him. 

“I don’t think that,” He started softly. “If anything, I’m the one who’s being clingy. Who even said clingy was bad, anyway? The way I see it, I’d rather have a cuddly, attentive boyfriend rather than one who kept his distance and sulked all day.”

“Really?”

“Really really.”

Derek hummed and lifted his face to look at him, his eyes wide and glistening with the way the moon reflected off of them. He had a small smile on his face and really, hadn’t Stiles held back enough? He leaned down and returned his affectionate smile, giggling when Derek ran a hand under his shirt and grazed his ribs. 

“You’re ticklish?” He asked, laughter in his voice.

Stiles’ denial quickly turned into another laugh when Derek continued to explore his waist and torso, and somehow, through his howling laughter and teary eyes, he ended up under a grinning Derek, who was just out of breath as he was. 

Their laughter quickly died out and they stared at each other before Stiles wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss, snickering when Derek’s arm slid on the comforter and he fell onto his chest. 

“Clumsy,” he told him teasingly. 

“Distracted,” Derek corrected. He sat back on his heels and gave him a pointed look before taking off his shirt. His hands went back to their position on the hem of his own and he tugged it questioningly, rolling his eyes when Stiles gestured for him to continue with a smug face. 

“Somebody’s humble.”

“But of course I am. One of us has to be.”

Derek leaned down and they kissed softly, their lips brushing each other’s pleasantly. Stiles let out a groan when he felt the tongue lick his bottom lip and granted entry without a second thought. His hands wandered from Derek’s back to the waistband of his jeans and he brushed his fingers just underneath them, a shiver going through him when Derek let out a pleased growl. 

Golden eyes met his own and he blushed when his cock twitched, knowing the other man felt it by the light smirk on his face. Derek’s hand trailed from his jaw and brushed over his nipple, humming thoughtfully when he shuddered, and continued until he was lightly cupping him. “Is this okay?”

Stiles blinked. “I- yeah, yes, get on with it.” Derek raised an eyebrow and damn it all, how did he manage to get a sadist as his first boyfriend? “Please?” He tried hesitantly, moaning when his hand started moving again, setting a rhythmic pace as he twirled his thumb on the head of his dick, driving him mad. 

Stiles was aware that he was probably being too loud, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, especially with the sounds Derek himself was making as he watched what his demonstrations were doing to him. He wrapped his arms around him and yanked him down into a hard kiss, closing his eyes and biting his shoulder as his orgasm hit him, leaving his body trembling in the recovery. Really, it was only a handjob and yet Derek managed to give him the best experience he’s had as of yet. 

Stiles stood by the fact that he could never know the power he held.

Derek cupped his face and caressed his jaw, kissing him languidly while he calmed down. 

“Well,” Stiles started. “That happened.”

Derek grinned and then laughed before knocking their heads together. “Was it okay? I wasn’t too rough, right?”

“It was great. Hot. Sexy, if you will.”

“Good.”

“But,” Stiles smiled slyly and managed to flip them while the wolf was distracted. He snickered at the half confused and half aroused expression and shuffled backwards so he was sitting on his knees. “Now it’s your turn.”

Derek grew serious and he took a breath to calm himself before he grasped Stiles’ waist “Are you sure? If we go any further it’ll be… difficult for me to stop.”

“Yeah, I’m sure big guy. Just, be gentle, yeah? It’ll be a first for me, too.” Stiles looked down, embarrassed at the confession, but he didn’t have much time to sulk before Derek pulled him down so he was laying on him. 

“Really? You haven’t…?”

“Topped? Yes. Bottomed? No. I was too scared before.”

Derek searched his face. “And now?”

“And now, I’m about to walk my cute ass to the bathroom to take care of myself if you don’t-”

Stiles’ laughter rang out along with Derek’s playful growl, the rest of their clothing thrown around the room without another thought.

He knew he had things to think about, but right now he wanted to live in the moment and enjoy the time with his dorky Sourwolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This...was not supposed to take as long as it did to update. I'm sorry! On the bright side, you got the answers on what happened plus a little Sterek goodness. The last chapter will be out soon, thank you all for your generous words and patience! I read all of the comments I get and I'm hoping to respond to them sometime this weekend! 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all! Another multi chapter makes it's appearance! This work isn't done yet, but I've got a solid idea of where it's going and the pacing for it as well. The updates will be longer though, what with college and work and general life going on. I'll try to compensate for the waiting period with the chapter length, like I did with this one. As long as people are happy to read it, I'm happy to write it. I hope you all enjoy it!


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